KIM (STARK) AMBERG

My impressions about my life adventure in Puerto Rico began, in some way, even before we landed on her shores, I would say. We boarded a ship---a Navy ship, no less—in New York on the tail of Hurricane Donna. It was during this voyage that I got a glimpse of the way the Army does things. Even though there were many sick passengers due to the rough seas, the strict Army regimen prevailed in the way people were allowed to have their meals. It didn’t matter how sick someone was at his designated meal time, if he felt more capable of eating at a time that was not assigned him, he just had to wait until his next assigned time. That was the beginning of what were to be other eye-opening observations of what it meant to be in the Army’s sphere of influence. Others that began that journey with me on the ship were Cathy Sivils and Trevor Williams.

One of the ways that I felt the rigor of Army life occurred every evening at dusk. I may have heard “Taps” in my lifetime, but the requirement to stop what you were doing outside and to face the flag while “Taps” played was certainly a new experience. In fairness, if we were inside our homes, that requirement didn’t hold true. The idea of Officers’ Wherry where we lived was also part of the way Army life worked on the base. It was a relatively small, remote area with Front, Middle and Back Streets and small, but adequate, concrete houses lining those streets. In the past I knew about officers and enlisted men, but had no experience of the way the segregation really worked—especially when it came to living circumstances. Another surprising infusion of how the Army influenced our lives was when my brother got into some sort of trouble on the base. My dad was called before the general to discuss the issue. I never thought my dad answered to anyone and it struck me as an intrusion into private matters, but then it seemed that nothing is private when living on an Army base!

So, my first impressions included what I would call “the Army influence”. As a “Coastie” family we were not really hard-wired into the way of Army life, rank and regimentation. My dad was a Coast Guard pilot after serving on ships and then going to OCS and flight school. The Coast Guard experience was, from my perspective, much softer and easier going that either the Army or Air Force service life.

Soon after arriving in Puerto Rico another part of what life can, and sometimes does include, is untimely death. Trevor’s brother died in a freak incident within weeks of our arrival and it showed me that death can come at any time; that there are dangers to be reckoned with along the way. It was also around that time that I’d learned that Butch’s brother had also died in a freakish way. I believe that before that time, I’d never known anyone who had died. It wasn’t long afterwards that we all got to experience death in a big way: the assassination of President Kennedy and then the Viet Nam War. It may be that each generation gets a big dose of reality with wars and unsettled world situations, but it was all pretty shocking to me at the time.

The most intense first impression in my new life came when I went to a public swimming pool. Having moved to Puerto Rico from North Carolina and Texas before that, we experienced the usual life of prejudice, discrimination and segregation. There was not real interaction with black people and any intermingling was infused with the mindset of difference and inequality.

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So, when I went to the pool that first time, my breath was taken away by the sight of white and black people swimming together. Imagine that! I am grateful for the shock of that experience because it was so uncomfortable that it made me determined to understand and counteract it. Within short order I became virtually color blind and embraced many opportunities to learn and share life without discrimination or prejudice. I have to give my parents some credit for allowing the relationships I chose, regardless of color and despite my dad’s growing up in Alabama.

I believe that this aspect of my Puerto Rican experience has been the deepest and most long lasting. To this day I find myself reflecting on how easily biased we can become by limiting our world, internal and external. I am grateful that what I have been able to do with these reflections is to pass down the virtues of exploration and open mindedness to my children and grandchildren. Ultimately, the most important gift I received from living in Puerto Rico has also blessed those most important in my life.

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GIN (LINDSEY) COLE

I arrived in Puerto Rico in mid-1959 and left in early summer 1962, making my years in San Juan the glorious junior high ones at the old Antilles on the Naval Air Station. I jotted down some memories in no particular order of time or importance and would like to precede them with Mark Twain's words: "I cannot remember any but the things that never happened. It is sad to go to pieces like this but we all have to do it." Well, here goes: Quarters TT crinolines dyed peau de sois shoes teen club white station wagon "O" Club pool, movies, and snack bar weekly history class rankings swim meet bus trips Brig—Vacancy slumber parties Aquacades Saturday shopping in Old San Juan Christmas cruise to Panama piano lessons merengue Sorry, Wrong Number

Gin (Virginia) Lindsey Cole

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DAN COPELAND

Sometime late 1959, Ft Gordon, Georgia – Dad got orders for Alaska! Wow, Alaska! The hunting, the fishing, the cold! I went to the post library and checked out virtually every book they had on Alaska and started reading. A couple of weeks later Dad got another stripe, and the orders to Alaska were cancelled. Talk about bursting the bubble. Then in a few more weeks he got orders to Puerto Rico. The only thing I knew about Puerto Rico was that there were a lot of Puerto Ricans at Ft Gordon, and some went to our school in Blythe, and some went to the black school. So went back to the library and checked out all the books they had about Puerto Rico and the Caribbean. No hunting, but fishing, diving, beaches, and NO COLD.

So we head for PR, stopping in Texas for a month, where I spent over a week in bed with the Asian flu.

Landed at Ramey AFB, sometime in January ’60, where we took a bus to Ft Buchannan. I’ll never forget that ride. We paralleled the beach for most of the trip and every so often a break in the trees would provide a quick glimpse of palm trees, white sand, and blue water. I had seen the ocean before, in France and Charleston SC, but there had been no palm trees and certainly no blue water. I knew immediately I was going to like this place.

We were assigned luxury accommodations at BHA, Buchannan Housing area. We had lived in a trailer park for four years at Gordon, so space-wise this was a big improvement, but space was the only thing that was good. Pretty close to tenement living. Quickly Met Billy F, a hillbilly kid from Tennessee, Frankie R, a Mexican kid from Texas, and Willie W, a black kid from Louisiana. We soon formed a business partnership, washing the aluminum shutters in BHA quarters.

Brought the crew to our place for a sandwich once, and was told by my dad that Frankie and Willie were not welcome in our house. First time I ever buckled up to Dad, though I did not win. Ironically, when we transferred to El Paso, Frankie’s dad had also been transferred there. We were staying with a cousin while buying a house. I invited Frankie over, and was told by my cousin he was not welcome there. I thought prejudice had been left behind in Georgia, but obviously not.

Took the school bus to the Naval Station. Hmm, sort of looked like BHA, big barracks type buildings. Oh, they WERE barracks. At Blythe, Georgia, the 8th grade was still Elementary, so we had the same teacher for everything. But here we actually changed classes with different teachers, which I thought was big time! My first week there while waiting for the bus to Buchannan, someone suggested getting mangos. Had no idea what they were, but first bite was true love, and they are still one of my favorite fruits today. Also saw my first and I think biggest iguana ever that day, at least three feet long.

First impression, I liked the school. There were a lot more kids than were at Blythe, and here most kids were military brats. We were used to being moved around to different schools, even different continents. But there seemed to be a totally different attitude from the kids here. I guess it was the fact that we were in the tropics, and everyone was in a mild state of shock – which I think lasted until we left the island.

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I remember Mr. Vaught for English, Mr. Looper for Science, Coach Hedrick for Civics and PE, Mrs. James for Spanish, and later, Mrs. Morales for Chemistry, Mr. Hense for I think Sociology, and of course Mr. Ramsey for History.

All the teachers were extremely friendly and helpful. They were accustomed to new kids coming in every week, and I think in most cases did their best to make everyone feel welcome.

10th Grade.

We started playing football! I had never played any sport in an organized venue, except Little League in Augusta. But I loved football. The first year our only competitor was Roosevelt Roads, and I think we played three games. The next year, Ramey AFB and a private civilian school joined the group, and we played two games with each school. The first year we won all three games. The second year we won all games except against Ramey. I remember the final game against Ramey – we played at Ramey, and I got a concussion in the first quarter. And we lost!

11th Grade.

We moved to a new high school at Ft Buchannan. Man, I thought this was the coolest thing ever! I could walk to school. And it was brand new. We didn’t have A/C, but you didn’t need it (most of the time). And there were palm trees everywhere, and tropical foliage everywhere, and beautiful girls everywhere! And they were the same girls that were at Navy, but they just all looked so much cuter! Maybe taking them out of the barracks environment helped, or maybe the fact that they were older, and were getting better with age. I had never heard the phrase “I thought I had died and gone to Heaven”, but that’s the way I felt. There could not be a better life than this.

11th Grade and a half

I knew it was going to happen at some point in time, we all did. But the day my dad got orders to transfer to El Paso was probably the saddest day of my life up to then. I only had a year and a half to go to graduate from AHS! I loved the place, I loved the people, I loved my life! And now I had to leave, and go to some God forsaken desert town in Texas. And the idea of going to Texas was sort of intriguing – I had been born there, but had spent very little time there, with all of my dad’s assignments. And most of the times in my life I would have jumped at the chance. BUT now I had to leave Puerto Rico!!! And that just sucked. I think now of the events that happen when people leave companies, or just move from a neighborhood – going away parties, and big hooplas . I don’t remember there being going away parties for anyone, (or maybe I wasn’t invited) and I’m pretty sure there wasn’t one for me (or maybe I wasn’t invited). I remember when I left there were two people that came to say good bye – Merilyn Bishop, who I had dated for some time, and Kirk Sterns, who lived across the street and was my snorkeling buddy. Oh well…

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Besides school

My first attempt at snorkeling was at the Army/Navy Beach in San Juan, not even sure where it was, because we started going to Punta Salinas. Snorkeling became my biggest hobby. I and my buddy Kirk were at Punta Salinas at least two weekends a month, and sometimes more. We knew every lobster hangout, and at any point in time I had probably around five pounds of tails in our freezer. And I was the only one in my family that liked it. I ate lobster like most people ate hot dogs. Now tails are $25 a pound – I don’t eat so much anymore.

One summer at Punta Salinas the beach was inundated by millions of minnows, what we called sardines, and they were being chased by all kinds of fish. With one throw of a cast net we could enough bait to last several hours. I’ve never caught so many fish since.

Punta Salinas was the military beach, and in addition to family outings a couple times a month, there were teen club parties and often just casual meetings of people that happened to be there at the same time. I remember a small island that contained some sort of radar facility. There was a nice grassy area out of sight from practically everything; it was unofficially the “make out” spot. Ah, selective memories. Work

Being the son of a mid level NCO, there was not a lot of spare money around. And as time went on, most of my friends were officer’s kids – and most of the girls I dated were officer’s kids. The PX would get a shipment of clothes in, then half the kids in school would wear the same shirts. My preference was Dobie Gillis shirts, and they were sold at a place in OSJ Named Chaleco Rojo. Obviously my folks couldn’t afford to buy my clothes there, so I started working. I worked at the commissary for tips the first couple of days after payday. I mowed yards every two weeks for the Post Commander’s inspection tour. I delivered movie schedules, so I got free movies for me and a date. In the summer I worked at the auto hobby shop as the tool man, for a whopping $.60 an hour. And for one year while my dad ran the NCO club, I sold lobster tails to the club for $1.00 a pound. I probably had more expendable income then than many times in my life. San Juan

OSJ had many tourist shops with all sorts of cool stuff from South America, Africa, the Caribbean – one shop had what was billed as a real shrunken head from somewhere in South America. Kirk and I wanted that so badly, but it cost $200, so we never got it – and never knew for sure if it was real. But we convinced ourselves that it was, and that was all that counted.

The Caribe Hilton was one of the best known hotels there at the time. They had a bunch of flamingos, and some goofy kids were known to have chased the flamingos, and then get on the elevator and push the buttons for every floor. Thank goodness I had enough sense not to participate. (yeah right).

A couple of weeks before I left, Earl Vaught took me to the Hilton and we drank pina coladas for hours. Today I’m sure he would go to Jail for that if the authorities were told. But it just seemed

6 like a natural thing to do at the time. I know that some people did not like Mr. Vaught and thought he was a terrible teacher – but English was the one of the few classes in college in which I always made A’s, and maybe part of that was to his credit.

Mr. Vaught also had a group of people that he invited to his apartment in OSJ, overlooking the governor’s palace. We had daiquiris and pina coladas. I remember Nora Carrigan, Jim Townsend, and I thought Gin – but she said no – don’t remember the others. Once Coach Hedrick showed up – the next Monday I had to do 5 extra laps around the football field.

Puerto Rico has always been part of my fondest memories of growing up. It was such a unique place to be able to experience, particularly to be able to live and go to school. In 2011 my wife Katherine and I took our whole family there – my two girls, husbands, and three grandkids, and Katherine’s grown son and daughter. Wanted to show them where an important part of my life had been spent. We got married in St Thomas ‘99, and have been back to Puerto Rico four times – and plan on going back in2015.

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DAVID CORBIN

Having moved to PR as a senior, I have more memories of PR after high school graduation than during, but I do have some similar and some different memories to those that have been exchanged already. First the similarities-- I definitely fondly remember getting pan de agua fresh out of the ovens in the early mornings in Old San Juan. I also remember the Union church and even singing and playing my guitar on the beach at an Easter sunrise service. I was in a talent show at the Tapia Theatre where I sang “They Call the Wind Mariah.” I didn’t win but to this day I can sing a lot the Telephone Song from Bye-Bye Birdie (in Spanish) because I heard it several times for the rehearsals for the show. A guy whose name I don’t remember (from Robinson, I believe) won the talent show by singing the theme from Exodus.

I never knew about the plays at San Cristobal. Maybe that happened before my senior year. It sounds great. I do remember studying in Spanish class about San Cristobal. The legend was that a statue was moved and that caused a drought and the Garita del Diablo is where sentinels would be snatched away by the devil. I’m glad that all of you in the play escaped that fate.

Finally, I am forever grateful to those who invited me to go with them to Icacos Island before the school year started. I was brand new to PR and I suspect that since my dad was principal of the elementary school and my mother a teacher at the middle school that someone’s parents put pressure on one or more of you (I suspect Priscilla and/or PeeDee) to invite me. The trip was widely covered at the beginning of the 1964 Cutlass. That invitation was essential to being accepted in a new school in my senior year. (By the way I’m the only person I know who attended a three year, a four year and a five year high school. I’ll let you figure out how that can happen). Since I came back to PR on college vacations and then I taught in the Antilles system for four years, I’m not sure which of my memories are high school memories and which are after high school. Either way, I have fond memories of PR.

P.S. My daughter got her degree in theatre and now works as an events coordinator for the Royal National Theatre of Great Britain (New York office). The superstition is that you can’t say Macbeth in a theatre, you can say it elsewhere without having a curse upon you, although perhaps you will be snatched by the devil when performing at San Cristobal:) If you like Macbeth, then I recommend Sleep No More in New York

Some memories of Teen Club and other things:

I was not exactly a ladies man in high school. I was self-conscious and painfully shy around girls. I could cover that up when I played guitar and sang. Indeed, I was invited to parties because I could do a little entertainment—the most requested song was “One Last Kiss” from Bye Bye Birdie. I ended that song by stepping out of my guitar strap and saying: "And remember--clean mind, clean body--take your pick." Unfortunately for me, as I sang other songs, others had the opportunity to make out, but not me.

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At Teen Club I was grateful for the opportunity to interact to the best of my ability, with actual females. There were only two songs that I would dance to, both by the Beach Boys, as I recall they were “In My Room” and “Surfer Girl.” Fortunately, at Teen Club, people could go there without having to ask someone on a date. If that were required, I would not have gone. So, on occasion I had the opportunity to shuffle and sway from side to side to the sounds of the Beach Boys. I never danced to any fast music—too scared. I was also worried about being too skinny so I spent a lot of time after school working out with weights that I created with a crow bar and cinder blocks. I got stronger, but I was still skinny.

Fast forward several years (I’m not sure how many years) and almost everyone that I dated was a dancer-- the first being, Cissy King, of Lawrence Welk Show fame. (This part of my life is a sure way to impress the over eighty crowd). I began to take classes in modern dance (where I was usually the only male in the class, a real advantage in learning how to talk to women), folk dance and social dance. I met my wife, Josie, at a dance workshop at, of all places, Brigham Young University. I taught dance as a physical education teacher as part of the curriculum at Antilles Middle School.

Now, I have probably gone too far the other way. I dance up a storm (this is my perception and not necessarily the perception of others) at weddings and other events that include dance. I graduated from being a singer/guitarist on a cruise ship out of San Juan to being a social crew member for a cruise ship out of New York City. One of my jobs was to dance with unaccompanied women, usually of the elderly variety, from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. (You haven’t really danced until you have danced with a frail older woman who has been drinking while the ship is navigating rough waters). Since then I have appeared in amateur productions of “Oklahoma” when I lived in Canada and in minor roles and as a supernumerary (the extras of the ballet world) with Omaha Ballet and with the Dance Theatre of Harlem’s production of “The Firebird” when they were in Omaha. For these roles it helps to be male, tall and thin, aka, skinny. Indeed, my most popular videos of the many I have posted on YouTube and teachertube are the ones of me dancing as Bagdaddy and Bag Monster. Since my wife is director of the University of Nebraska Omaha dance company I have had the opportunity to sing, play guitar and dance for the company. So, for those of you who remember me, please strike the guy who couldn’t or wouldn’t dance off of your description of me. Although I am now retired from UNO after 31 years as a professor of health education and public health, I am still performing here and there. I usually sing at Earth Day every year and I recently danced Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” with many other zombies at our local museum during the Halloween season.

And, the guy who couldn’t comfortably talk to girls at AHS went on to teach human sexuality in elementary, middle, high school and then in college at the undergraduate and undergraduate levels. People generally don’t believe this, but in San Juan, I would sometimes go to some of the bars that were frequented by ladies of the evening. On slow nights, I could talk to the women to try to understand more about them and their profession. (The part that people don’t believe is that I just talked). Old San Juan was also the first place that I had seen a gay bar. I afforded myself the opportunity to engage in conversations (yes, conversations) with the patrons.

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Perhaps, this is how I became interested in human sexuality as an academic topic. It’s interesting that I had few problems in my conversations in the pickup bars and gay bars, but I couldn’t ask anyone from AHS out for a date. I did not attend the prom at AHS but I did attend several proms when I was a high school teacher, and, yes, I danced to fast music.

I had forgotten the name of the Black Angus, which was right outside the Naval Station. I looked up the Black Angus online and one source said the following: "Black Angus, rated by porn magazines as the best brothel in the world." Who knew? The other infamous place was La Riviera run by Tony Tursi, a notorious character who once ran for mayor of San Juan and was later jailed for shady dealings. I was only able to come up with Tony Tursi's name when I looked up a clipping from a piece that I wrote for the San Juan Star when I taught at Antilles Middle School. I am attaching a pdf of the article. Some of the things mentioned may jog your memory, but many of the references are even lost on me these so many years later. And speaking of the San Juan Star. I remember that our cheerleaders were featured on the front of the Sunday San Juan Star Magazine, but when I moved from San Juan, the first time, the movers lost an entire filing cabinet that had all my clippings from high school days. Perhaps some of you have a copy of that cover and article.

At one time I was roommates with Butch James (at University of New Mexico: Patty Jennings also went to UNM) and Randy Surum (when we both shared a condo when we worked in San Juan). I have lost touch with both over the years.

I flew to San Juan from Pennsylvania, where I was a camp counselor. I had campers from San Juan (one was the son of a vice president at Bacardi). I didn't get to go back to Albuquerque to say bye to my friends I just received a plane ticket from my parents with a letter saying they both had jobs at ACS. It was my first time on a commercial flight and we hit a huge air pocket and dropped considerably in altitude and luggage went flying. I thought this must be a regular occurrence. The campers from San Juan had me convinced that San Juan was going to be similar to West Side Story and that I would regularly encounter gangs. Of course, they were, successfully, pulling my leg. I did get invited for a personal tour of Bacardi by the kid's dad.

After arriving in San Juan, my first memories were of coquís and mimis (the bugs, that is). The mimis never bothered me much, but my mother was covered with bites. Just some random memories for the good of the cause.

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PAUL DANIEL

Lap 1. The water’s a little cool today. So what fat boy the laps aren’t going to swim themselves. OK, OK. I start my routine. I can usually think when I am exercising or driving so here goes. Puerto Rico, hmmm. I had long been a military dependent (aka brat) and was used to moving without much notice and throwing away everything that I had accumulated over the preceding 2 years. No room for toys and personal stuff so it goes in the trash or I have to give it away. My father was a chief in the Coast Guard and was stationed at Isla Grande Air Station. More commonly called the Navy Base. We had lived in Hawaii for 2 years then 2 years in Miami and the move to Puerto Rico was more of the same. We moved there on my 16th birthday, June 16, 1962. I loved the warmth, the sun, the trade winds and the sea. The only difference was that a lot of people were speaking Spanish. I had had 2 years in 9th and 10th grade so I guess I would see if my linguistic skills were up to the task. There was no housing for us when we got off the plane from Miami so they put us up in a small hotel on the main street running through Santurce. It turned out to be our home for 6 weeks. I can’t remember the name of it but it was a long walk to the Navy Base and the Swiss Air where we could get cherry cokes and French fries and they were really cheap too. It is also where I met 2 of my friends, Jerry and Steve Alvarez. They had come in on the same plane and were dumped there too. We had a ball running up and down the halls and trying to figure out what people were saying. MIRA! What was that?

Lap 4. Maybe it’s time for a sprint. OK. We finally got a house in a place called San Patricio in a town called Bayamon. It was a typical collection of government issue duplexes all exactly alike inside and out. Our house was H-14-B. It was at the far end of the houses on the top of the hill. The perimeter fence was 3 feet outside mine and my brother’s window. I remember trying to sleep on a hot night (no a/c) looking out the window and seeing rats walking on the fence. I also remember that there was a mental hospital over the fence too. Sometimes I would see and hear a prowler walking behind the house looking to find an open window so he could break in.

Lap 6, have to catch my breath after 2 full tilt boogey laps. Too old for this stuff. I used to ride my bike around the whole place. I did miles and miles just for something to do. I did notice that there were lots of girls sitting on the sidewalks talking when I was riding. Shy guy that I was I just kept riding. Our next door neighbor was a warrant officer who had a 1964 Corvette. He worked on it almost every day. Usually, he put fiberglass on it then sanded it off. I never did see him drive it but it looked cool in front of our house. I went to the teen club and tried to dance but it took a long time for me to figure out what was going on. Jerry Alvarez was the President at the time and he was very popular. He was a senior then and I was a junior. Steve was one year younger but we got along well. Come school time me and my sister (Barbara) got on the bus for Ft. Buchanan and got dropped off at Antilles Consolidated High School. Being the new kid here was not as terrifying as it was in the states when you were the only new kid. Here people came and went everyday depending on the vagaries of the military machine.

Lap 8. Take it easy now and let the legs do the work. The first days in school where a blur and I don’t remember much except sitting in Spanish class listening to all of you talk really good

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Spanish and I couldn’t even follow what you were saying. I guess I had a way to go to learn Spanish. I enjoyed Mr. Ramsey’s history class but wasn’t into remembering dates and things. Mostly I liked watching him sip from his little thermos and trying not to cough. I can’t imagine what was in that thermos. Right!

Lap 10. This is the backward laps in my routine. Feet only. Mr. Ramsey…Bas Relief…I missed that question on the test and I will never forget what it means. I enjoyed going to chemistry and physics classes with Mrs. Morales. I didn’t say it was easy but I liked all the stuff I had to do and some of it stuck in my brain. I never did much extracurricular stuff in school because during my junior year I had 3 part time jobs at San Pat so I could have some pocket money. I cleaned up the outdoor theater every night, I sold popcorn and cleaned the bar next door. I was busy to say the least but somehow I managed to get by in school. My father was valedictorian of his high school class and didn’t understand why I wasn’t number one in my class. He didn’t know you people like I did. I was in awe of the intelligence in that school. I did just enough to get my father off my butt so I could do what I wanted. I was always curious about everything.

Lap 12, just paddling back and forth so I can think. I played a lot of basketball at the Navy gym and met a lot of friends there. Ronnie Walker, Jimmy Yeager and several other guys I met there turned into good friends over the three years I had in Puerto Rico. I remember the Cuban Missile crisis in 1962 because my father was one of the guards posted to the gate at San Pat. I used to see him there and I would not want to be the guy who tried to get through the gate with him there. Tall, thin, Georgia redneck, corded muscles and mean as a snake. On a lighter note, I got a summer job at the NCO club at Ft. Buchanan along with David Murphy, Steve and Jerry Alvarez and another guy I can’t seem to remember. Steve and I were cook’s helpers and dish washers. We spend the summer of 1963 sweating in the kitchen and rolling in the wealth we attained. Sixty cents an hour. Could there be so much money in the universe? One day in school I was given a letter that said I had to be at such and such a place on Saturday to take a test. I was all set to go diving on that day and now I had to take a test. It was called the SAT. I had no clue what it was all about but I took it anyway. I did not realize then that my entire academic future would hang on the score I got that day. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad so I actually got into college. I wanted to be a marine biologist and the University of Miami had a really good school for this and was in my home town. I found out later that $750 per semester was just a little too much for someone making 60 cents an hour. I had saved $1500 but that was only 2 semesters. I had a chance at med school too but the same problem. No money.

Lap 14. Back to a sprint then a lifeguard crawl. The water’s not so cool now. I never imagined you could sweat in the water. Truth. During the summer a KMART opened up at the bottom of the hill from San Pat. Lots of stuff to buy. I also took the lifeguard course at the Army pool and got my Lifesaving badge so I could be a real lifeguard. I spent much of my free time in the water snorkeling around with Jimmy Yeager. We must have swam (swum?) hundreds of miles. We shot at everything that came in front of us but fortunately for the creatures we weren’t very good with our spearguns. We did get a lot of langostas and I remember getting 15 or so in the lagoon where San Geronimo sits. It is at the place where Old San Juan and the Condado join. The bridges connect everything together there. There was a ledge about halfway across the lagoon that always had langostas. We also found an old Spanish cannon ball right in the middle

12 of the entrance to the small bay there. It had fallen in a crack and the coral had grown it to the seafloor where it probably sits today. We tried everything to get it up but it was rough there and a wicked current and we were holding our breath. We used to dive off the street lights too until someone would call the law and we would make our escape. It had to be 20 feet above the road and 10 more feet to the water and not much water underneath. Teenagers…what can you do with them? I also remember getting on a guagua and dragging our dive gear and 15 langostas along with us for the ride to San Pat. We were not the most popular kids on that bus for sure. Loved the water.

Lap 16, more paddling, more thinking. School started again and now I’m a senior. I had 3 study halls because I only had to take trig/calculus, English and PE. I could have taken summer courses to finish early but I had no place to go as I was only 17. I opted for woodshop too and it turned out to be a really good thing. Mr. Gorney saw something in me and went out of his way to teach me drafting and all the woodworking skills I could handle. I still have the napkin holder I made as my class project. I was originally in AP physics and chemistry but the competition was tough. My first test in chemistry I got a 93 and it turned out to be an “F”. I thought it better to drop these two classes so I would not trash my mediocre GPA any more than I had already. I continued to work weekends at the NCO club to keep the money rolling in. I was promoted to waiter then and got a whopping 15 cents per hour raise. That brought my hourly wage to $0.75. I forgot the tips. I used to make $10.00 per day or so waiting on 1 2 tables. NCOs did not tip well to say the least and I found out why when I became an NCO a few years later. No money. Uncle is cheap. The civilians tipped even less than the NCOs. I used to wait on a table of 6 for lunch and they would leave me $0.25 and they thought they were doing me a favor. Of course the food and booze was really cheap too, twenty cents for a rum and coke, meatloaf dinner with everything was $1.00.

Lap 18, more backwards kicking. Really? I got to know some of my classmates a little better this year and they were a pretty good lot. I always liked Tom Garvey. He could do anything. Smart, capable and he seemed to have a good time. We didn’t talk much but I used him as a role model for my life. “Do the best with what you’ve got.” Play the hand you are dealt is about the same thing but I looked at Tom as the person I wanted to be. I didn’t make it but I came close. The day the teacher read his story about a milling machine cutting a piece of metal I was dumbfounded. I had never heard words so good in my life. I write from time to time and have never come close to that story. Thanks, Tom. I went out for the basketball team but didn’t make it so I went back to the Navy gym to play when I had the time. I swam a million laps there too. A mile a day was my goal. Thirty-six laps in that pool. I knew every crack and mark in that pool after 3 years. I liked to walk around the Condado in the morning and surf if there were any waves. I helped build a 17 foot motor boat with my neighbor across the street. He was a Coast Guard Lt. and he wanted a motor boat to go out and fish and ski. We built it in his side yard and once it was done we went out all the time in it. I learned to water ski right next to El Morro, the inside part not the ocean side.

Lap 20, one way sprint and out of breath coming back. Did I mention I’m getting old? Not 17 anymore Dorothy. I rode my bike up and down the streets in San Pat. Now I knew the girls who were sitting there on the side walk. Randy Snyder, long red hair and made my heart skip a beat

13 when she smiled at me. Paula Locasio who usually waved when I go by. Paul and Paula. Same names in a song but not to be boyfriend/girlfriend. I did take her to her senior prom a year after I graduated. Her father said she could go with me as he thought I was “safe”. Not sure what that really means but it sounds bad if you are a 17 year old male of the species. Carol Jane Fletcher, cute little blond girl with lots of brothers and sisters. I eventually found out she had 6 brothers and 6 sisters when I married her in 1967.

Lap 22, more paddling up and back. I went to a pep rally one night but didn’t really get into it. I went on a trip with some of the kids to Icacos. We went to Fajardo and rented a sailboat and the captain took us to Icacos. We all got burned and wet but it was a good time. I ate some pastillios back in Fajardo at the dock and they were the best I’ve ever had. I spent a lot of nights on the bridges by Club Nautico bow fishing for snook. Jimmy Yeager and I shot at a lot of them but only got one. I think if I had never gotten that one I would have continued to try but once we got one the challenge was over and I looked for something else to do. We spent a lot of time at Punta Salinas beach too. We got a ton of langostas there and I got a 17 pounder that is still the biggest I’ve ever heard of. My father took a picture of it but it has been lost somewhere all these years. I would like to have that picture. We also got drunk there at a little colmado near the gate. Corona and India beer was $1 and we played pool and drank until we fell down. Then we walked back to the beach and slept in the sand until the bugs started chewing us up. Then it was back in the water. Near the end of my senior year I was walking down the open hallway and I saw Kim Stark and two other girls walking hand-in-hand and foot-over-foot having a good time and singing a song. I don’t have a clue what the song was or why they were even doing what they were doing but all I remember is the healthy, youthful radiance I saw in Kim’s face. She was alive, happy, carefree and everybody could see it. I never felt like that. I’ll never forget the look on her face. Totally happy. Pretty as a Sunday morning.

Lap 24, one down and sprint back, if I have anything left. I had a crush on Vivian Figueroa. I’m sure it was a one sided crush but I had it bad. It must have been obvious to her brother who took me aside and in no uncertain terms told me that no gringo could date his sister. I guess he was right as we never did anything but say hi in the hallways. I always wondered why she had blond hair and was Puerto Rican. Years later she told me that her father was from the part of Spain where most of the people had blond hair. Every morning we would gather at the park in San Pat and wait for the bus to take us to school. One morning someone brought fresh warm glazed donuts in a brown bag and shared them with us. We were listening to the Beatles singing on a little portable radio (I want to hold your hand) and eating those incredible donuts. It turned out that there was a man who made them every day right next to the fence on B street. We visited him from time to time and by the time we got to school we were wound up. We also had the sugar crash before lunch and had a tough time keeping our eyes open. Steve and a couple of the other guys had started smoking and kept ragging on me because I didn’t smoke. I broke down and bought some and tried it for a couple of weeks but I finally threw them away and said to myself how stupid could they be? Those things are not good for anything and the cost will kill you. They were 11 cents a pack then at San Pat’s little store.

Lap 26, paddling up and back, that’s all there is now. There was a hill outside of San Pat and we used to go there and hike up and down. There was a water tower and a pumping station too

14 and we used to have meetings on top of the building. Meetings, not really. Someone would get some fireworks or a bottle of 151 and we would sneak off and drink it up there. We always thought our parents didn’t know but they always did. There was a cave up there too and we all had to go into the cave or else not be a man. It was an inclined descent of maybe 70 degrees to get into it. The rocks had split apart about 18 inches and if you wiggled just right you could go all the way to the actual cave. It was a pretty big cave once you got into it and it had a dirt floor. I always wondered how long it had been there. One day we were inside and it started raining and we were trying to get out and I got stuck in the crevice. My feet were not on the ground and I couldn’t grab anything above me to pull myself up. I thought I was in deep do-do. All the swimming had made my chest too thick (right!) but I finally managed to get out. I was a wreck but happy to be out. I have hated caves since then.

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DENNIS DISALVO

The Story Begins

I arrived in San Juan with my parents and older brother (Mike class of ‘61) in mid fall of 1958. Unlike many others we journeyed by air, so it was a quick trip. I would not have minded a sea voyage and am quite comfortable on the ocean as my early career as an officer in the US Merchant Marine will attest. We were sent there for a two year assignment (we ended up staying for four) as a result of my Dad’s work as an attorney for the NLRB. It seemed that PR was offering special tax concessions to companies that moved production or opened a new factory there and the US Government was anticipating a great deal of labor organizing activity so they decided to build up the legal force in the San Juan office. My Dad spoke fluent Spanish, as did my Mom, even though they both were Americans of Italian descent so he was selected for the move. I fluency in Spanish was to some degree a result of their service during the war.

We needed to find a “permanent” residence so while we searched we lived in a transient apartment complex near Fort Buchanan and my brother and I walked to the base gate to catch the bus to the San Juan Navel Base for school. My brother was a Sophomore and I was a young seventh grader. I say young (I had just turned eleven during the summer) because in my last school, a Catholic grammar school on Long Island, I had skipped the sixth grade and had just started the seventh in the September right before our move. Needless to say being young, for the grade, and the move/new school resulted in some anxiety on my part on the first day in the new school. My very pleasant recollection from this part of the PR experience is the fact that the SCHOOL and STUDENTS were all so very FRIENDLY and WELCOMING. This was a lot different than what I expected coming from the tough streets of NY and being taught by strict Catholic nuns all my life. THIS FRIENDLINESS (of faculty and classmates) AND OPENESS MAY BE THE BEST RECOLLECTION OF MY DAYS IN PR AND AT AHS!

After several weeks in our transient apartment, we finally moved to our new home in Condado Beach and it turned out to be a great spot and not just because I now lived just a couple of short blocks from Tom Garvey. Oddly enough, more than fifty years later I now live just a few miles from Tom in the SF Bay Area but that is another story. Condado was great. It was not too far away so I could walk to and from school but the best part was that I could swim at the beach every day. It was like being on permanent summer vacation. Later during freshman and sophomore years the proximity to the clubs and hotels would provide Tom , David and I with some wonderful opportunities for youthful hi jinks! But that definitely is another story.

Sometime in early 1959 I somehow (can’t remember now how) got involved selling subscriptions to what was going to be the first English language daily newspaper in San Juan, The San Juan Star. Anyway, I sold about 200 subscriptions in my neighborhood and was awarded a lot of points which I traded for prizes like model planes and underwater flashlights. Then the paper asked me if I wanted to take on a delivery route which I had not thought about at the outset. This was to be a morning paper and I was not an early riser, but I agreed anyway

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(my brother took one as well) and I ended up with about 100 customers. In addition to being a part of the founding history of this Pulitzer winning paper, this turned out to be a great decision. The paper cost 10 cents and I got 4 cents which was a good split. It only took about 30 to 40 minutes to do the route six mornings a week and so with tips I was making about $30 to $35 a week as an 12 year old independent businessman. By independent, I mean financial independence from my parents. I now had my own money and could do and buy what I wanted, which shortly included my own dingy which I sailed in the lagoon after school, when I was not swimming and my own SCUBA gear. It was great taking a friend (Tom or Dave) on board and sailing down to Old San Juan and back. Also great going diving with my brother, his friend Jan Bogart and Dave.

Of course it wasn’t all fun down there I did have to go to school sometimes but now that I think about it school was a lot of fun as well. I remember the spirit days passing some big inflatable thing around in the field, the school plays, the funny teachers watching/playing sports. I think I was on the JV volleyball team but probably not very good since I have never been well coordinated for ball, bat, racket types of sports. I stuck with swimming and sailing and later in college added crew. I guess I am a real Cancer sign. Lastly, I remember the trip to Vieques! I also remember the night life which of course included the Teen Club which I guess I started to attend as a freshman along with my brother and our civilian friends, all of us, being “tolerated” on base by the marines at the gate. On the serious side, MY MOST LIFE FORMING EXPERIENCES there at AHS involved the arrival at the navy base on separate occasions of two research vessels. One was the Vema from Columbia University’s Lamont Oceanographic Research Lab and the other the famous Calypso. There was a lot of research going on at that time in the Puerto Rico Trench. Anyway, a bunch of us guys were allowed/invited to go on board at the dock for a visit. Those tours and the conversations with the scientists and crew promoted my interest in studying oceanography which after a lot more schooling first in science later in business/finance, led to a life/career that in one way or another was very directly connected to the sea and/or the international maritime industry. Oddly enough, I never really held a paying position in Oceanography but THAT IS ANOTHER STORY INDEED!

The Story Ends

My departure from the island was perhaps the saddest of my life’s experiences to that point in time. The federal government permitted us to return to the states on paid leave every two years. It was just after sophomore year that a jetted back to NY to visit friends and family oddly enough at the summer beach house on Long Island. It was a wonderful trip in as much as in contrast to my arrival in PR via prop aircraft I was on the sleek Boeing 707 jet. My parents had stayed behind because we now also had twin sisters in the family. My brother was already back in the states for college. Anyway, after about a month my father called to let me know that he was accepting a transfer/promotion to the Washington DC headquarters office. Further, I was not to go back to PR but to wait and meet the family in NY then go down to DC to start school in September. For me there was to be no personal good bye to friends or to the island life style. No gentle sailing off into the sun set. Just a cold turkey shut down and the rude awakening of going to a senior high school with 3,000 students in Silver Spring MD until graduation in 1964.

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Epilogue

I did, thanks to Dave get my 1962 Cutlass which some friends like Hal (“Good Grief!”-that is how he signed ) were good enough to sign. I did finally get to see Dave and say good bye in 1967 during a training cruise I made that included San Juan and finally in 2011 I was able to catch up with Tom and Dan and many of the rest of you thanks to John tracking me down and convincing me to go to St.Pete’s Beach in 2011. Finally, for those of you who have been wondering, Tom took over the paper route.

From one Pirate to the rest, all the best and look forward to seeing you in NOLA.

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JOHN DIXON

El Niño que Corre

While living in San Juan I began a life-long hobby as a stamp collector. I am not sure what led to this interest but somehow I found that stamps, and their engraved images, were fascinating. I began by collecting US stamps from the mail. Then I began to ask friends of my parents who were traveling in the Caribbean to pick up stamps from their travels. Small collections from the Bahamas, the DR and Panama were soon part of my collection.

I would answer ads in the comic books – 10 triangles from foreign countries for 10 cents! – and slowly my collection grew.

Realizing that business firms in San Juan would get mail from all over the Caribbean and beyond, I went from store to store and Office to office to ask people to save stamps for me. Soon my “collectors” included several Banks – especially the Royal Bank of Canada – some trading houses (including S. Badrenas y Hijos who imported Gouda cheese among other things) and some Puerto Rican government offices (such as the Hacienda that collected taxes).

Once a week I made my rounds of all of these and asked if they had any stamps for me – they always had something and over the years I became known as “el niño que corre” since I would run from place to place with my growing cache of stamps. At Christmas the man who saved stamps for me at S. Badrenas would give me a small Gouda cheese from Holland as a Christmas present!

My other main source of stamps was from the ships that came into San Juan. All the way from Old San Juan to the Naval Base there were docks with freighters tied up. There was no security so on Saturdays sometimes I would walk from ship to ship, go on board, and ask if any of the sailors had stamps. They always had piles of letters from home and they would bring out their mail and tear off the stamps. I quickly noted that there were marked differences between ships depending where they were from. Greek ships were fairly dirty but the sailors always had lots of mail and would load me up with colorful Greek stamps (plus cups of strong Greek coffee). Scandinavian ships were immaculate but the crew was more reserved and had fewer interesting stamps. 54 years later I still have many of these stamps in my collection.

I also became interested in coins and asked the clerks at the main Post Office in San Juan to set aside any Barber head coins for me. When Puerto Rico became a US colony in 1898 the US Government imported millions of coins to replace the Spanish currency. The slang term for a nickel was “un vellon” since the original US 5 cent coins had a buffalo (vellon) on one side and an Indian head on the other. A quarter was called “una peseta” after the Spanish currency. Indian head pennies were still commonly used. The postal clerks received these coins every day from their customers and I would ask them to set them aside and then I would give them the same value in modern coins. Most of the coins were heavily used (they had been in circulation for 60years at that point) but it was fun seeing what dates were represented and looking for special coins. I collected 100 plus of these coins over the years – all dated to before about 1920.

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My greatest find was an 1869 quarter in excellent condition. I think I still have it somewhere in Bethesda. Pava Prints and Lunch Time in Old San Juan

It was about 1960 in San Juan and I had started to draw -- my earliest dated pictures where from 1959/1960. I had noticed that there were very nice Christmas cards being produced by a company called Pava Prints. The pava, of course, was the typical jibaro straw /thatch hat that was also the symbol of the Populares political party. (Remember -- Pan, Tierra, Libertad -- with the red pava stenciled on small flags? I still have one of those.)

I was 14 and fearless so I found a phone number for Pava Prints and called the number and said that I was interested in visiting the factory to see how the cards were made. Lohr Gonzalez answered and explained that they were located on 172 Calle San Jose in Old San Juan and that I was welcome to visit anytime. So became a life-long friendship with Lohr and his wife Sally and the world of Pava Prints.

No factory, Pava Prints was a small office (that Sally ran) and a few printing rooms on the top of an ancient colonial building behind the Cathedral de San Juan. The ground floor was a dark threatening place where the old weekly English paper -- the San Juan Times??-- was published with ancient presses and hot lead linotype machines. I loved the smell of ink and all the hot lead and the printing process.

Pava Prints was upstairs and the operation consisted of Lohr and Sally and three Puerto Rican employees. And then me! Lohr showed me how the silk screen cards were printed, how screens were cut and prepared, and offered me free use of his equipment and inks (paint) to print my own prints. He also offered me a job as a "printer’s devil" -- a helper -- at 80 cents an hour. I helped Francisco and gang do whatever -- carry the paper, clean screens, fold cards... I did this every Saturday and sometimes on Sunday and/ or after school depending on how busy they were. The busiest times, of course, were the months before Christmas. On Mondays after school I would catch the Ft Broke school bus and head into Old San Juan and go to Pava Prints with my time sheet -- so many hours at 80 cents per -- and Sally would either pay me in cash or write a check.

There are many stories about Pava Prints and 64 years of history. One thing I remember vividly after all these years was lunch on Saturday when I was working there. Lohr was usually in but the regular crew were off -- it was their weekend. So I worked on my own in the printing room listening to Lohr's great collection of jazz and blues records -- I was first introduced to Leadbelly, Bessie Smith and old time Louis Armstrong songs then. Not to mention new stuff like Bob Dylan and Joan Baez when Lohr would return from New York City and a visit to Sam Goody’s record store. But those are stories for another day.

At lunch time I went across the street to a small colmado and bought a pastelillo, a refresco del pais, and a dulce de batata for a total of about 25 cents. Then I went back to Pava Prints, up

20 to their roof and across it and jumped on to the roof of the Cathedral, crossed it and went up the top of the bell tower where I sat under these huge brass bells, looking out over old San Juan at the bay and parts of the city walls and enjoyed my lunch. The sun was warm, I looked over a sea of colonial rooftops on to the blue waters of the bay and I imagined Spanish bullion ships riding at anchor.

This was my special spot and time. Then back to Pava Prints to the interior, air-conditioned press room, where I put on another Leadbelly record (10 inch sizes by Folkways Records) and got back to work.

Pava Prints and You Have to be Taught

I worked at Pava Prints for 4 years and kept up contact with Lohr and Sally for the next 50 years. In the summer of 1962 we left San Juan and my dad was stationed in Fayetteville North Carolina at Ft. Bragg. It was an unhappy 2 years in Fayetteville and at (a still basically segregated) Fayetteville Senior High. I was the proverbial square peg in a round hole -- the jibaro from San Juan. I did well academically but that was about all. But FHS is a story for another day.

After my Junior year at Fayetteville I told my parents that I was going back to San Juan for the summer. They said "fine" but I was on my own. I caught a bus to Miami, slept on the street (or the bus terminal) for one night and caught a plane to San Juan. I quickly had jobs at an Army warehouse in Ft. Buchanan and as a waiter at the Officer's Club in Ft. Buchanan. I stayed at Mr. Ramsey's house for a while and then at the Aumillers -- both had kindly offered me the use of a spare room. The two jobs kept me very busy and provided enough money and food to survive the summer and afford a plane ticket back to New York and a bus to Fayetteville in late August/ early September. I turned 17 that summer.

One thing I remember clearly was going back to Pava Prints to see Lohr and Sally and my co- workers. I had been gone for a year in North Carolina. I remember walking into Pava Prints and going into the printing room where Francisco, Ruben and others were working and was amazed to realize that they were black!!

When I had worked with them for several years I had no sense of their color -- if someone had asked me I would have said that they were Puerto Rican and probably darker that me but that was it. All it took was 9 months in North Carolina to learn that they were different and black. I was upset and hurt -- and also realized that even though when we were growing up in PR there was racism and color differences, it was not part of our (or at least my) everyday world. I truly was color-blind. Naive, perhaps, but quite happy to be so.

Living in Hawaii now, a true multi-cultural setting -- I realize that our children grew up like me in San Juan -- there were differences but they did not define the person. Now our friend's children here in Hawai’I are amazed when I tell them that I could not have gone to lunch with

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Barack Obama (who was born and raised in, and vacations in Hawai’i) when I was in High School in North Carolina. Fayetteville was still a very segregated place.

La Perla is Still La Perla

I spent a lot of time wandering all over Old San Juan drawing and exploring – Spanish forts, courtyards of once grand homes that were now tenements, and the great sprawling La Perla slum at the foot of Ft. Brooke. I never had any problem there as I wandered around sketching and salvaging drift wood from the beach that I painted with Santos (Saints) to sell and give to others. (The santos story is for another day and I stole the idea from an artist named Dalyrymple.) La Perla was a great place to sketch since all of the houses were made of wood and there were all kinds of angles. One of my first lino block prints was a view of La Perla from the sea – very detailed, maybe a bit too busy, but always one of my favorites. You can see Populares flags, women hanging out of windows, and telephone poles with power lines.

While I was always very fond of that early print, as my work evolved I kept doing drawing in La Perla – increasingly from the top of the city walls that connected El Morro and San Cristobal. One drawing that I did in 1961 was quite nice and Lohr Gonzalez at Pava Prints asked if he could buy the rights to the image to use as a Christmas card for Pava Prints. I was flattered and said “sure” and the fee of $25 (or maybe $50, I forget) was a huge payday for me. Here is the original drawing from 1961 and version printed as a Christmas card. Lohr then changed the date to 1962 and added some color and a Christmas tree and published it in the Pava Prints line in 1962. He also re-named it Las Casitas and I wrote the new title and signed it

22 again on a small piece of paper to cover up the original. You can see the remains of the tape that was used on the original drawing.

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However, it turned out not to be successful – everyone in Puerto Rico (or at least those buying cards in San Juan) knew it was La Perla! It sold poorly and Lohr gave me a stock of unsold cards that I used for many years! However, ever resourceful I re-cycled the image again for the 1962 Cutlass and made a block print that you have all seen in the Yearbook and is shown below.

You will notice that the image is “flipped” because when you cut a block and print it the image (and all the lettering) comes out reversed. Not important in a scene like this but very important if it is a view that everyone recognizes! In that case you have to cut everything in reverse!

Treasure Hunting at Isla de Cabras

We all remember Isla de Cabras – the island across from El Morro and just past the Bacardi distillery in Cataño. The name, I am told, was due to the habit of the early Spanish explorers of leaving pairs of goats on small islands so that they would multiply and be there (ready to eat) when they came back. Puerto Rico’s Isla de Cabras also had a small fort – El Cañuelo – that provided cross fire across the entrance to the bay.

Back to my story. First a view of El Cañuelo from a visit to Puerto Rico in 2008:

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A small aside here: I was told that the original name of Puerto Rico was San Juan since it was discovered by Colombus on the saint day for San Juan Bautista. And he (or was it Ponce de Leon) sailed into the harbor and said “Ay, que puerto rico!” (My, what a rich/good port or harbor!) So the city was promptly called Puerto Rico and the island San Juan! Makes perfect sense and then over time the names were reversed. Whatever the actual truth is, the above is still a good story and I enjoyed going to Isla de Cabras to explore the small fort but also to dig in the midden heap on the island.

A midden heap is basically a trash dump – but in this case it was pre-Colombian, probably associated with a settlement of Taino Indians (or maybe Caribe Indians). Before the Spaniards arrived the island was small and sandy, and there was an Indian village located here (now long gone). Houses were made of wood and thatch and over the decades or centuries trash was thrown on one side of the settlement by the beach. Archeologists call these early sanitary landfills midden heaps (or so I was told).

Trash was anything that was no longer useful – food scraps, bones, pieces of broken pottery. As the sand bank eroded pieces of pottery and bone were exposed. In those days there was no “cultural heritage” protection and basically there was nothing on the island. Today there is a nice beach park located there and the area of the old midden heap is behind fences. Isla de Cabras was connected to the mainland by a short causeway/ bridge and I would go there

25 with a small trowel and dig through the sand to look for treasures. Somewhere between Indiana Jones and dumpster diving!

I can’t believe now that no one stopped me but the island was uninhabited and I had no concept that what I was doing was wrong! It was just an eroding sand bank and I was searching for treasure. (I did the same at El Morro where I would go exploring on the seaward side at the base of the fort’s walls. This was a rocky, steep cliff with pockets of sand and dirt facing the Caribbean Sea. I still have pieces of clay pipes, coins, buttons and wine bottles that got tossed by the garrison!)

Going through the midden heap layer by layer with my trowel I exposed whatever was inside. The only things that survived all those centuries in the sand were pieces of pottery and some animal bones. I found many pieces of pottery (pot shards they are called) but only kept those that had designs or figures on them. Sometimes I would find several pieces together that were obviously part of a larger piece. In those cases I would keep these pieces and then glue them together to form a larger shard. I still have 2 cigar boxes of these treasures and enjoyed looking at the designs and especially the figures.

Usually I found shards with geometric patterns, but sometimes there were pot handles and sometimes even pottery heads. Among my greatest “finds” were a monkey-headed handle, a small turtle head, and even a small human figure. The latter came from Indian River in Salinas – another place I went digging.

Here is a photo of the end of what was probably a square serving pot/ food container:

Here is a photo of a number of these pieces laid onto a piece of cloth. The 12 inch ruler below gives an idea of the size:

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I also did a drawing in the early 1960s (ca. 1963) of two of the nicest pieces in the above photo – a small figure the size of a finger and a monkey or bat headed (?) handle. At that time I was fascinated by Egyptology and was making detailed drawings of artifacts seen in books or some things that my Father had brought back from his days in Egypt driving an ambulance with the American Field Service (ca. 1942). The Taino artifact drawings are shown here:

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Looking back now I realize that what I did at that archeological site was wrong, but also that the eroding sand midden heap would have probably been entirely gone within a few years and these pieces would have been at the bottom of San Juan Bay. En el fondo del caño hay un negrito

We probably all took Spanish while at Antilles. My first teacher was Mr. Negron and then I had Mrs. James. I always thought that she was an excellent teacher and I enjoyed the class. I was also starting to explore Old San Juan and work at Pava Prints so I was using Spanish every day. In the summer of 1961 (I believe) Mrs. James recommended me for a special multi- week course at the Universidad de Puerto Rico (UPR) in Santurce.

I remember nothing about the course other than the fact that we were the “guinea pigs” in a special program for Spanish language teachers from the US. The classes were held in an inside room at UPR with one-way mirrors and we were observed by the other teachers without us seeing them. All of the students were non-native Spanish speakers so the class replicated what the teachers would face in their classes in the US. And, the teachers got to spend the summer in Puerto Rico polishing their Spanish and learning the intricacies of Puerto Rican Spanish!

I have only 2 memories from that summer session. The first was leaving the campus each day and walking down a small street to where I caught the bus back to Ft. Buchanan. I remember that there were trees on each side of the street and it was mid-day and hot. The warm sun shone on my back as I walked the 10 or 15 minutes to where I caught the bus. It was very peaceful.

My other memory was of a story that we read called En el fondo del caño hay un negrito (In the bottom/ depth of the canal there is a little black boy). It was a short story about a poor little boy who lived in a slum built over the water. It could have been El Fungito or Martin Peña. The only thing I remember now about the story is that the hero would look into the black canal waters and see a reflection – his reflection – and thought that he had a friend who lived in the canal. I remember no other details of the plot but I do remember the last line of the story. The boy had a hard life and it was quite a sad story and one day he decided to go seek his friend, the reflection in the water: Y se fue a buscarlo.

I was so impressed by the story and the image of the words that I did a block print based on sketches from El Fungito. It shows the slum houses and a walkway over the water and a mother and child. In the print the child is a girl but I realize I should have made the child a small boy. This has always been one of my favorite prints and is on the next page.

Postscript. With the wonders of Google I decided this week (March 2014 – 53 years later) to see if anything came up if I put in the title of the story in the search bar. And, much to my surprise there it was! It turns out that it is a famous short story written in 1950 by Jose Luis Gonzalez (1926-1997), considered one of Puerto Rico’s leading authors of the 20th century. As Spanish Wikipedia says “His work is fundamental in order to understand Puerto Rico’s history

28 and reality in the 20th century.” The story is only 4 pages long and it certainly made an impression on me. If you Google the story you can read it.

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Going Skin Diving at El Conquistador

In the summer of 1963 I came back to PR for the summer. Besides working in the warehouse at Buchanan and the Officer's Club at Buchanan as a waiter (bar and food --age did not seem to matter then as I was 16) I also took lots of short trips around the island and to St Thomas.

One day David and I went skin diving/ snorkeling at El Conquistador at Fajardo. We went in his Dad's car -- and I think he let me drive part of the way -- three on the column. It was my first time using a stick shift. I just found the attached photo from that outing and Dave’s old car:

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MARGUERITE FONTAINE

I got the form to fill out for my high school ring on the very day that we got the orders to move to San Juan. I was a sophomore. I cried. Living so near New York City, and reading Time magazine, Newsweek, and US News & World Report every week, I did not have a favorable impression of Puerto Rico and its inhabitants. I had very much wanted to go to Hawaii.

We moved to Fort Buchanan from Fair Lawn, New Jersey, in the summer of 1962. Although we lived only 14 miles from The City (NY), I do not recall meeting any neighbors, or any classmates at my Catholic schools, who were not white. My biggest cultural shocks had been being made fun of for my Massachusetts accent, and having Jewish owners in the other half of our duplex.

I was seasick within an hour of leaving NYC on a perfectly calm day, and remained so for the whole four-day trip via MSTS. My younger brother delighted in tormenting me, sitting in the cabin, swaying back and forth, and repeating over and over: "Back and forth, back and forth, up and down, up and down." My mother later commented that the only thing that got broken during this move was her cast iron skillet.

There was no place for us to live at the tiny Coast Guard base, so someone found a small house for us in the junior officers' area, even though my father's rank qualified us to live in larger quarters among the majors and lieutenant colonels.

Our first house was later condemned, and we had to move within the same housing area. I remember the movers wanting to roll our piano up the street a few blocks instead of loading it onto the truck. My mother was adamantly opposed, and prevailed.

During my senior year, we lived across from "El Zippo", the gas storage facility that burned off excess gas day and night, with a rather loud hiss. I was always afraid of a tank blowing up there, but was grateful that it didn't occur. We could also see the Bacardi facilities, farther away. On the tour, they liked to invite you lean over the fermentation tanks. The smell was overpowering. To this day, I cannot drink rum, but that's because of the tour. In addition to the JC sandals Sara mentioned (I loved mine), several of us had large wicker basket "handbags". Since there was no age limit for buying alcohol - you just had to be able to give the money to the seller - I recall putting a large bottle of rum in my briefcase-sized "purse" and taking it on the bus to Ramey AFB to make (warm) rum-and-coke drinks for the trip home after a basketball game. I got violently sick out the window of my dad's car after he picked me up; then for some reason, my mom made me resign from Jolly Rogers. She said it was because we were out too late at night for the basketball games.... I loved to go to the teen club and dance, although I don't think I was very good at it. My favorite partner was Jimmy Christian, and he was VERY good at it. I liked to imitate and learn from him. One of my saddest memories is the day he came to pick me up, and my dad told him he was not welcome at our house and that I could not go out with him. All because he was black. I was shocked and embarrassed that my dad would do such a thing.

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TOM GARVEY

We arrived in 1957 (probably around August, but who knows?). My grandparents on my mother’s side had lived in the Condado area for a few years (actually directly across from the Condado Hotel) and we had visited. My mom had been interested in the possibility of moving down there near them and my dad was in the FBI and from what I can tell looking back, after a while pretty much didn’t like any office he was stationed in. Anyway, he had asked a friend of his, a fellow agent, to sign him up for the Spanish class that he would need in order to get transferred to Puerto Rico and that guy wound up getting signed up instead of my dad. Otherwise, we would have gotten there in 1956.

The first month was a learning experience: my bike was stolen (my brother saw the suspect and described him to the cops as being "6 foot 14”); one of my parents had a car accident; my mom was washing clothes and came out of the laundry room to encounter a guy coming out of her bedroom with her purse and took off after him, chasing him a block or so down the street (in her shorts) until finally with the help of a couple of other people cornering him in a garage— when she went to call the cops, somehow he got away…but she did get her purse back; and some other momentous event that is apparently lost in the mists of time.

My folks thought I should go to a nice Catholic school and probably in 7th or 8th grade i took an entrance exam for a Jesuit school there (so much for the “nice” part) and managed to get the algebra problems right despite not having had algebra, so i got in, but for some reason my parents changed their mind (thank goodness!!). and the rest, as they say, is…uhhh, i forget…!!

32

PATRICK GILHOOLY

My memories of the Caribbean cover most of my childhood. My dad wasn’t military; he was a veterinarian working for the federal government, Department of Agriculture. We traveled back and forth between California and the Caribbean for most of my childhood. I’ve always been attracted by “something different” and Puerto Rico was all that and more. My family spent lots of time at the beach. We went every weekend, usually with a picnic. My dad and my older brother would spear fish, sometimes even scoring a lobster.

For half of my freshman year I was at Roosevelt Roads in Ceiba. Not many memories there except we had to hire “publico” to get to school. From there I matriculated (a strictly Puerto Rican term I have since learned) to Collegio San Antonio Abad in the hills above Humacao. My folks told me it was too good an opportunity to pass up. I was on a scholarship at an excellent school and it only cost them $35/month for room and board. My mom said they couldn’t feed me at home for that. It was a monastery boarding school run by Benedictine monks and catering to wealthy Hispanic families. I was the “token Anglo,” one of very few, and I was supposed to teach the other students English. I think they did better at teaching me Spanish; I can still speak it at 68, at least well enough to converse in south Texas.

I was assigned to lots of odd jobs at the school. I can remember cleaning the Olympic sized pool. I was given a wire brush and a diver’s mask hooked up to an air tank in the laundry. I had to scrub the walls to get rid of the algae when shocking the pool didn’t work. I also worked as a counselor during Summer School, teaching archery, a sport I knew nothing about. My worst memory there is of getting food poisoning. One of the workers in the kitchen had an ear infection and didn’t wash her hands well enough. The whole school got sick; they had to bring in medical staff and hook us all up to intravenous antibiotics. I lost 20 pound, probably the last time in my life I was skinny. Afterwards I can remember being interrogated by Fr. Bertram Blum following my first weekend home. Looking back on it I realize that they were probably worried my folks would sue them.

While I was at Collegio San Antonio Abad, my folks moved from Humacao to Santurce to a house on a hill in Borrequin Heights. I was eligible to go to Antilles High School. It was very different from the monastery. Everyone spoke English and had a similar background to mine. We had all spent our lives moving frequently. Probably the biggest change was girls. They were everywhere, they were gorgeous, and they were friendly. Everyone was friendly. I don’t remember any bullies, or anyone being “stuck-up.” I had terrible acne. My older brother called me the “pimply creep.” I was amazed that the

33 girls didn’t hold it against me and surprised that they would even talk to me, in fact they seemed to like me. What a change from an all male boarding school with monks.

I spent my junior and half my senior year at Antilles High School. It was great. I remember Mr. Ramsey taught history. He made it come alive for us because he always had anecdotes about what we were studying.

I even had a job. I had gotten a summer job as a waiter at the Fort Buchanan Officers Open Mess. My mom was very sick in the hospital and my dad was busy with my younger sister and brother, so I kept working when school started. I worked with Master Sgt Stevens, USA. He was the first Afro-American I had ever had an association with. He was a really nice guy. I remember going to the Bacardi Factory for a big catered party. I was drinking something sweet made with rum and got very drunk. Sgt. Stevens didn’t say a thing, not then, not ever. He just had some of the other workers put me in the van to sleep it off.

Frequently on Friday evenings, the mess would serve fresh lobster flown in from Haiti. I remember the huge kettles and the cooks dropping them into the boiling water, the squeals as the air rushed out of the exoskeleton. That was when I fell in love with lobster and have spent the rest of my life trying to reproduce that flavor, even going so far as traveling to Newfoundland in a quest for fresh lobster that tasted as good as that memory.

I remember what an honor it was to be assigned to wait on the General’s table. I can’t remember his name, but his daughter went to Antilles too. She was younger than me, so I really catered to her. Wish I could remember her name.

Once my mom recovered, she put her foot down. No working during the school year. She made me quit. I really missed having that money in my pocket, but life was just still great. I remember the Teen Clubs both Navy and Army. This was marvelous. There were girls, lots of girls. I had my first girlfriend, Charla Hayen. It was so much fun doing things together. There was music. Not the Puerto Rican merengue music I was used to, but popular music, the Ventures, the Surfaris. There was dancing. This was the first time I had ever been to dances. It was fantastic, even if it was chaperoned. We could do anything it seemed. We even did “The Dog” – shocking.

During that time, I was also playing the oboe and attending the Conservatorio de Musica of Puerto Rico. Pablo Casals was President of the conservatory. This exposed me to whole different side of music. The conservatory was free; I even took college level music courses. I don’t remember much about Casals, but I do remember his wife. She had been his student and seemed to me to be as great a cellist as him.

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It was during Christmas break of my senior year that life changed for me again. One morning my folks came to me and told me that my grandmother had died and that they needed me to go to San Bernardino, CA, live in her house and get it ready to sell. Within 48 hours I was on the other side of the world on my own. I finished my senior year there, what a shock. So strange after Antilles, with its small close knit senior class, to graduate from San Bernardino High School, with its class of 800, just one in a crowd. I rode my bicycle everywhere, even at night; it was my only form of transportation. I even had to take night school classes to meet California’s requirement for graduation. It was a class called California Institutions – a subject I remember nothing of. It was also very strange to be all alone, totally responsible for myself. I have to admit I wasn’t always good. I had already been accepted to the University of California at Davis, so I skipped school more often than I should have. I wrote my own excuses and forged my mother’s name to them. I almost didn’t graduate, too many absences; but I did get caught up on TV and black/ white movies we never had in Puerto Rico.

35

CHARLA HAYEN

I arrived in Puerto Rico in October of 1960. I was pretty scared but also excited about living in such a wonderful, new place. Like many of my fellow Antilles classmates, I had been in and out of schools all of my life. I was extremely shy and the first weeks at Antilles were very difficult. What turned everything around was the freshman play directed by Mr. Vaught. Somehow I was cast in the play, a great opportunity. As a result I suddenly felt more a part of the school. (And happily I was able to stay for all four years and graduate in June, 1964).

My mother found work almost immediately with a company in town that brought in various well know actors to do shows. The shows were produced at the Tapia Theatre in Old San Juan, and I was often able to stay backstage and watch the happenings. I met Margaret O'Brien, Eddie Bracken and Boris Karloff. It was exciting. Later I did shows with the community theatre which also used the Tapia...an incredibly wonderful theatre. One show...SKIN OF OUR TEETH starred a young Sally Jesse. We rehearsed often at her house with her giant dog Buttercup. My most memorable experience theatre wise was MACBETH at Fort San Cristobal. I played a Young Macduff who was dramatically murdered. My friend Linda Rainey and I explored the entire fort endlessly during rehearsals. Fellow actors were Tom Garvey and David Bogart. My mom was Lady Macbeth.

I also had a life time dream come true in being able to own a horse...a Pasofino named Caribe. I kept him at Sebana Seca Naval Station. I rode many miles through the jungle with friends. Fortunately, my parents never realized the extensive traveling I did by horseback. We had great adventures. Sadly after two years my horse was stolen off the base and I never found him. However, I was able to see the extraordinary beauty of the countryside from weekend searches with my father. I guess the loss of Caribe was the most difficult experience during my Puerto Rico time.

The highlight of my Puerto Rico days was Patrick Gilhooly. He was certainly one of the dearest friends I ever had. Patrick was loved by all because he sincerely liked everyone. Because of Patrick I became less of a self centered person and more of who I really was...still self centered (!) but more caring for others. His kindness and friendship will always be treasured by me.

I know that being a student at Antilles was probably the most significant part of my life. The teachers were incredibly kind, funny and smart. I had felt so isolated and alone at the other schools I had attended. Suddenly everything was in Technicolor and I was actually happy going to school...a definite first in my lifetime. I was given so many great opportunities and all because of the extra work and dedication of the faculty there. I am not sure who I would be right now if I had not experienced Antilles High School. I am very grateful that somehow I landed on that magical island of Puerto Rico...far more magical than Bali Hai.

36

BOB HENDERSON

Mr. Ramsey's Glee Club

Mr. Ramsey was not only an inspiring teacher but also a talented musician and composer -- he wrote the AHS Alma Mater that we all learned 50 years ago, although apparently it is no longer being sung by today's ACSD students. He also led our AHS student Glee Club. I'm not sure how official it was, or how much we sang as a group other than with Mr. Ramsey at his piano, but it was self-affirming to bask in the glow of his attention there! One memorable Glee Club experience outside of our weekly practice sessions was Yuletide caroling - in English - around Old San Juan not long before Christmas one year. I still wonder what the Old San Juan shopkeepers and residents thought of this odd activity! I remembered my tenor part of these carols for many family Christmas sing-alongs in later years.

Listening to steel band, Tom Lehrer and (pirated) classical music

My parents had a few records that I played often in our quarters on La Puntilla, including one by a Caribbean steel band (remember "Yellow Bird" as played on those metal drums?) and one by satirist Tom Lehrer. His song "Be Prepared" was especially intriguing to me, since I had no idea what he was singing about. . . As a former Boy Scout, I vaguely understood that a "Girl Scout who is similarly inclined" could be a lot of fun, but I had no idea how one would "prepare" for such an encounter. If I had, it could have saved me a lot of trouble later. . . I was also occasionally asked to house-sit in another Coast Guard officer's quarters, where I was tempted beyond my limits by their hi-fi stereo phonograph and several 33-1/3 RPM "long playing" recordings of classical music. I passed many hours there listening to various well-loved classical compositions, just as I had seen my grandfather Lloyd do with his own home-made stereo system in Reading, Massachusetts. I don't think that I broke or scratched any of the precious vinyl discs, so my "music piracy" has remained unpunished to this day!

Playing HexaChess with Tom

As a studious "nerd", I harbored the impression that the young ladies of AHS only had eyes for the "jocks" in our class. I had spent considerable time and effort to invent and fabricate a playable chess game using a hexagonal board with 61 hex "squares", so the thought arose in my hormone-addled brain that the girls might be impressed if I could beat a "jock" at this game. I mean, what could have gone wrong? You guessed it --I made the mistake of challenging Tom, who mated me in only a few moves. . . today I might recognize this as a "lose-lose" situation! In any event, my hex-chess game worked pretty well after some additional tweaks. Various computer-playable versions (both mine and others') can now be downloaded from ZillionsofGames.com, but I still have little luck in winning them!

37

Teasing (& being teased?)

Mimi and I had practically grown up together as CG brats, so I felt entitled to tease her now and then. One day she came into our morning class looking a little bit off-kilter. To help her avoid being embarrassed by a less-friendly student or (horrors!) a male teacher, I analyzed her frontal aspect with a finely-calibrated geometrician's eye and advised her that she appeared to be "lop- sided". While she ran to the ladies' room to adjust her straps, I congratulated myself on my brotherly intervention's having successfully saved her from further embarrassment. At least, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it! Mimi probably has a different recollection, if she even remembers this encounter. . .

On a couple of other occasions I suspect that I was being teased by Mimi or Nora, but I was far too obtuse to be conscious of it at the time. After a few beers in NOLA I might be persuaded to describe their actions in some detail and let you try to guess what their intentions were. . . I would ask Mimi myself, but she can always fall back on "plausible deniability" (or simple forgetfulness) about what she had in mind over 50 years ago!

A visit with "Don Tito" Wirshing

My 1963-64 AHS scrapbook includes a few Don Q flyers, mementos of a 1963 encounter with Don Tito Wirshing in Ponce. My Dad drove me all around PR to ask for recommendations from local Rensselaer graduates in support of my application for admittance to RPI. Don Tito (who owned Don Q Distilleries at that time) entertained us in his basement bar. My introduction to Don Q rum was a couple of tasty frozen Margaritas. . . when I finally slid off the bar stool, my legs felt as though they were made of rubber! I decided then and there to avoid all alcoholic beverages in the future (obviously my judgment was impaired!). . . I remember Don Tito pointing out to sea and telling us "That's my island!" as we got into the car for our drive back to San Juan. He was pointing at Caja de Muertos, which, along with Don Tito himself, has figured in other classmates' adventures. I hope they are also in Pirate Gumbo!

Model planes & makeshift rafts

Flying my beloved model airplanes was a challenge on La Puntilla: they had no radio control in those days and frequently landed either in San Juan Harbor or outside the fence that ran around the CG base. I used up several precious quarters bribing the kids on the other side of the fence to return my wayward aircraft. It got so that I attracted an audience whenever I went out to the ball field to fly a model plane -- they were all hoping to be the first to retrieve it in case it flew over the fence! Their windfall ended abruptly when I started flying glow-powered control line models instead: these were small models tethered by short hand-held control lines, so it was a challenge not to get dizzy as I spun like a Dervish in the center of the circle, tilting the control handle madly to keep the plane in the air!

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My other "modelling" activity was to build catamaran rafts of driftwood, attach a mast and a paper bag for a sail, and launch them to be carried by the trade winds from La Puntilla across the entrance of San Juan Harbor all the way to the Bacardi factory (I could just make out the "bat device" on their smokestack with the help of a pair of binoculars). I still wonder what the folks there thought if and when they ever found my rafts that had washed ashore on the other side!

Brother Jim's harebrained schemes

My brother Jim occasionally pulled some stupid stunts that got himself and/or me into serious trouble. The one that affected me most was during one of those frequent times that our parents were both away for the evening. He decided to find out whether our father's ceremonial USCG sword was sharp enough to stab through a thick pad of paper(!). He talked me into holding the pad steady for him (my first mistake) and proceeded to prove that the sword was, indeed, sharp enough. Unfortunately, the meat of my thumb was directly behind the sword's exit point. . . I still carry the scar from that adventure, as well as some from a few others that I haven't found a way to blame on Jim (so far)!

Nora's kindness

Nora was unfailingly kind to me, but I could be biased. . . She always called me "Robert" rather than "Bob", which was quaint and charming, but also a bit puzzling. At one point I asked her straight out why she insisted upon calling me "Robert". She answered sweetly that "Bob" was far too common and ordinary a name for someone as special as me!

When we both got back to the cars early at the end of a field trip to El Yunque, I told her about a word game called Jotto that I had enjoyed with a friend at Thomas Jefferson Junior High School in Fair Lawn, NJ. She encouraged me to explain the rules to her (similar to a commercial game called MasterMind, which was popular at the time) and even played a round or two with me before the rest of the group arrived and we all headed back to AHS.

Another time we were cleaning up the lab after Mrs. Morales' chemistry class. I was kvetching that all the girls I was sweet on were Catholic, but I was Protestant (such things seemed to be fixed at birth in those days, and "mixed marriages" were frowned upon). Nora replied in her soft lisp "I'm not Catholic, Robert", which should have been my cue to give her a big hug! Of course I was much too shy at the time to do any such thing. . .

39

MARY ANN (COPELAND) HOLLOMON

My thoughts on going to HS in PR will probably tend to be like any teenager’s thoughts on HS. I first knew that we would be going to PR when we had to go to the clinic and get even MORE of those dreaded yearly vaccines and, I suppose, when they came to get our furniture to put into storage. I already knew that I would be going to a different school anyway because there were no High Schools on Ft. Benning. My Dad was a Captain when we moved and we lived on Ft. Buchanan in the Officer’s Wherry housing. Directly across the street was the Post Chaplain, Rayburn Gentry, his wife Helen and their 5 children. I mention this because they came to be a major influence in our lives. Up the street, about 3 houses, I think , was Principal Bill Sheals and my later to become BFF, Pee Dee. I was never really aware of rank ( although my Dad, of course, was) so Army housing was great because they all looked alike there! No way to tell what a person’s rank was by how their quarters looked. I still dream about walking around that small neighborhood sometimes. The first day of school is memorable because I was sent out to get on a bus and go to a school, somewhere, knowing nobody. Needless to say, I felt shy and probably a little worried about what school was going to be like. Pee Dee later told me that she thought I was the most stuck up person she had ever met ! Sometimes I am still shy and people still think that about me. Glad she got over that one and we became best friends. I’m sure that I got to know the people who lived on Buchanan better than those who lived on other posts. In fact, I don’t think I even knew how many students of different branches of the Armed Forces and the Government were represented at our school. It is only since we have started to email that I have realized what a vast community we were! One memory that stands out clearly, except the man’s name, is of my Dad’s sponsor taking us to his family home in the mountains. Many of his relatives were there and they had roasted a whole pig for us. It was the first, and probably the last time, that I tasted blood sausage, especially after they explained how it was made! Everything else was delicious. I really don’t remember all of my teachers. In fact, I don’t even remember taking math, biology etc., but I must have because I only had to take Chemistry & Trig my senior year. Of course I remember Mr. Ramsey. He is still my favorite teacher of all time! I probably knew him in a different setting outside of school than many of you because he and his Mother were good friends with the Sheals so I only saw that side of him. Sounds like I missed a lot! I also remember Mr. Hense, Mr. Vaught & Mrs. James (bless her sweet heart, she tried so hard to teach me Spanish!). Mrs. Ramsey was special to me because I was a member of the Library Club and was in there every morning helping shelve books etc. In fact, for years, that was what I planned to have as my career. Unfortunately there was no degree in Library Science offered at my college. For some unknown reason, I was allowed to be a cheerleader. I say this only because I have always be a little uncoordinated. I was always in awe of Lynda Woodbury and Caroline Fike. They were blonde, curvy and beautiful. I remember one embarrassing moment when we were cheering at a basketball game. We were spread out in the 4 corners, supposed to run in diagonally and end up together in a big cheer. Three people made it, I, on the other hand, tripped and slid into the middle! It is funny now, sort of! We then started the Jolly Rogers and I

40 stayed with that. We wore those cute little black and white uniforms with the points around the skirts, white blouse, black vest and black berets. I remember when we started our first football season, going to Rosie Roads on the bus and the excitement of going to MY first football game ever. Another embarrassing time was Junior English class. Every day I would go in and Mr. Vaught would say: “Let’s all watch Mary Ann blush”. And I did, every single time. You would think he would have gotten tired of it eventually! I’m thinking that some of you knew him much better than I did ;-)) . Almost every weekend was spent at the Buchanan Teen Club, dancing, talking and just hanging out. It was a big part of our lives. I remember just watching Suzi and Spud dance, trying to figure out how they got that little extra hop in their dance. I think Spud was even kind enough to show me one time, but my lack of coordination struck again. 30 some years later I found out that it was called The Bop ! And I still couldn’t do it, even then, with people showing me how. We also spent a lot of time enjoying those 25 cent movies at the theater. I always got Junior Mints, popcorn & a coke. Still do! Church and youth group also played a big part in our family’s life. Chaplain Gentry and my Dad used to play golf early and then come to SS. PeeDee always went with us and we were the secretary/ treasurer team. We took up SS offering and class counts so we didn’t have to go to class ;-). We also went to Youth Group every Sunday night. One special memory is of Youth Summer Camp up in the mountains. My whole family went along (which, strangely didn’t bother me at all). Mom and Dad were the chief cook and bottle washers/ sick bay/ chaperones. We even took our cat and the 4 kittens in a laundry basket. Our youth leader was a REALLY good looking young soldier. (or so I thought then!) That might account for some of our memories! Having to spend the night after the prom at Priscilla’s house was a memorable time too. I so seldom was allowed off post that it was as major an event as the prom! With 4 kids in our little house, spend the nights were not part of our vocabulary! Try to visualize the following afternoon: PeeDee, my sister, Becky and I were sitting on my bed pouring out jars of shells that my Dad had found when out crawled a huge roach! Well, my sister & I immediately jumped on her bed and started jumping up and down and screaming. PeeDee, being of a calmer nature, went and got my Dad’s golf shoes and was stomping around trying to kill it when my Dad came running in with this panicky look on his face. He was just sure that one of us was terribly injured. What we were was terribly in trouble! I don’t jump up and down and scream now, but , if those nasty things are big enough, I have been known to wake up my long suffering husband to kill them ;-)). After looking through 2 of my annuals there are still things that I don’t remember participating in, but I must have. I actually have no memory of JFK coming to SJ, but my sister does. She got to go hear him speak. And she says I got to do everything- ha! I do still think of the hurricane and Trevor William’s brother drowning when they tried to swim in the storm sewer. That’s a sad one. I had no idea exactly what being in a hurricane meant, in reality. Probably a good thing because, as it was, I wasn’t worried at all. And then there was the Cuban Missile Crisis. We didn’t have TV or take the newspaper so I went through the whole thing completely unaware that PR was the first line of defense for

41 those Russian Ships. (Or that there were any Russian ships!) I am sure the whole Island and especially all of our bases were on top alert! My folks never said a thing about it. Of course, I learned about it later in history class. I never realized that we were actually in danger until I read Killing Kennedy! Have I mentioned that I was a little spacey at times? And naive? I notice that there were several references written in my annuals about my goofy smile! You can thank Mr. Ramsey for that. He told me , to overcome my shyness, that if I just smiled at people they would smile back. They still do. That lesson has not been forgotten. And, no, Danny Copeland and I are not related, that we know of! Other activities: swimming, pottery, reading, sun bathing with baby oil and iodine, walking all over the place , playing golf and then going to the golf club for those wonderful omelet sandwiches. When we weren’t walking we spent quite a bit of time riding around in a certain little red , “54, MG TD. I always thought I would find one like that when I got older, but now that I could, I wouldn’t be able to get in and out without straining many muscles! Anyway, I still hate to drive a stick shift. Leaving at the end of my Junior Year was one of the saddest things I have ever had to do. The Sheals even offered to let me stay with them for the year. My parents, probably very wisely, said no. I never wanted my children to go through that so we have always lived in Columbus, GA, except for the 2 years that Billy was in the Army. But I wouldn’t trade anything for the memories. Looking forward to seeing many of you again in NOLA. Blessings and more good memories to you and yours, Mary Ann (Copeland) Hollomon Pirates ’64 50th reunion, New Orleans, LA

42

SARA (WALTERS) INGRAM

We arrived in July of 1963 from Ft. Benning. Moved into quarters at Ft. Brooke. Lived next door to El Morro on one side, and the Rehkophs were in the other side of the duplex. Unbeknownst to me, John Dixon was at the Aumillers on the bluff beside the fortress. . .now that I think about it, I think I do recall something about that. Susie Smith, John and Bobby Reid, and Bob Bird lived down that steep hill. Randy (did we call him Hank sometimes? Why am I thinking that?) and Marilee Surum lived up the hill nearer to Rodriguez Hospital. Across from the chapel lived David Lewis whose Dad was the chaplain. Curleys and Loseys lived along the ocean side of Ft. Brooke.

The wind was always blowing on the ocean side of the house, so when the door was opened it practically took your head off. Messed up the hairdo every time. Took to wearing those tacky little tulle things or the trusty babushka. I was to be a Senior at Antilles High.

Met Carl Thayer (his dad was our sponsor) who was headed to Brown University. I had never heard of it at that time. Did not make points with Carl. I think on an AHS website, I saw where he is now in Australia.

Daddy was in the Army. First he was with the Reserves, then he did something like deputy commander of Ft. Brooke under General Dobson, who lived in Casa Blanca with Lisa and Drew, and pretty collie named "Tucky." Short for Kentucky.

Was horribly sick on arrival with stomach bug. A common malady to new arrivers, I learned. Also learned that a jigger or two of Creme de Menthe with soda water over crushed ice is an excellent antidote.

Learned about JC's and wore mine wet until they conformed to my feet. Purchased for $5 or so at Casa Cavanaugh in OSJ. Such great sandals!

Loved the outdoor movies at Ft. Brooke.

Accustomed myself to hearing Spanish on the street. Tourists in our front yard having picnics. . .golfers at the tee right outside our porch. Loved walking down into OSJ and shopping there. Martha Sleeper was fun and Casa Cavanaugh. Who had the most madras? Who had the Weejuns? Guys, when you wore socks, it was Gold Cups. Remember Padin's department store? He had literally everything. Or he could get it for you in 24 hours.

Gecko lizards were the squirrel equivalent of Puerto Rico. My brother used to put string collars on them and leashes. Never hurt one, but played with many. The big poison Bull Frogs were sort of icky-scary looking.

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Let's see. . .there was a bottle of peroxide on my hair. . .didn't know dark hair would not do anything like what I had hoped. Took a year to grow the brassy mess out. Mom was not amused.

Marched with the Jolly Rogers, choreographed by Mrs. Carrigan. My only experience with marching. Patti Jennings designed our costume. Mom had to stay up long hours trying to be sure mine was made and the hem even. I'm sure I didn't appreciate it commensurate with her effort in my behalf. She has never held it against me. For that matter, I could never appreciate fully the efforts she and Daddy both made on my behalf.

Nora Carrigan and I planned and had a party near the end of school for everyone I think. I hope we didn't exclude anyone. It was at my house and I remember lots of fun and lots of food thanks to the Carrigans and Mom and Dad. Luis Mercado tried to teach me to merengue. I loved to dance with him. Wonder what happened to him. Good guy.

Graduation night. June 12, 1964. The last time many of us saw each other. I left not long after for college. Who'd a thunk then that we'd be able to plan and execute this reunion with the internet? After all, most phones were black rotaries. . .on short cords.

I don't recall anything about the bowels of El Morro. I'll leave that up to the guys who do. But I did love to sit up there and watch the ocean and the bay at the same time. Watching the waves crash against the shoreline trail was mesmerizing. The grounded, wreck of a ship out in the harbor was eerie to watch disintegrate. Voices could be heard out there at night and lights could be seen as obviously people were out there doing whatever. . .spooky.

Rain showers coming in off the ocean-almost every day-for a few minutes. Sunsets. Moonrises. Reflections on the water. Amazing.

Boarding up for hurricanes. Glass brick windows on the ocean side and louvres on the bay side. Tile floors and rattan furniture. Salt air's corrosive power on everything!

Hermit crabs. One grabbed our little dachsund's lip. She cried so hard.

Apple bananas. The best banana in the world!

Machetes and coconuts.

Buildings made of stucco, painted pastel colors. Red tile roofs. Magnificent Hibiscus. Coquis-- millions of coquis.

Seeing Operation Spring Board from the Navy every year! The tall ships that came, the USCG Eagle (Coasties, help my memory with that one--a tall ship with CGAcademy mids operating it?) The luxury liners coming in at night. So pretty.

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One day a Japanese freighter ran aground right underneath us. The tugs assisting were manned by Puerto Ricans. Hmmmmmm. . . think language. . . and lots of it going on! But they got the job done!

Some sailors from a Canadian ship in port came to our porch in the middle of the night. . .had been in the water and climbed the hill from the harbor up to our porch. Had no idea where they were. Daddy called the MPs and the orders were to help them get back to and on their ship without getting into trouble. They were minus some pieces of uniform. They couldn't get back on board if they were not in uniform. But a couple of MP's and some savvy sailors could figure out a plan. Never heard the end of the story. . .funny.

Every time I think I've remembered everything. Then I remember something else. At our ages, it is good to remember anything. Any more of this and everyone will be asleep.

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DEE (HERMAN) ROPPO

In spring of 1961, my dad came home from work and said, "Well, where would you like to move to next, Great Lakes, Illinois or San Juan, Puerto Rico?" What a question! The only possible answer could be PR! My sister, Joann, and I were so excited....she was actually a little less excited because she would be moving for her senior year. But such is the life of a Navy kid. We were moving on to the next adventure.

We were lucky enough to usually move during the summer, although this time we knew school would already have started by the time we got there. I had spent my freshman year at Brookline High School in Brookline, MA. This was a huge school....20 freshman class home rooms, with about 20-25 kids in each one. Almost all classes were divided into 3 levels; honors, standard, or basic. It was a super competitive environment. Imagine how I felt that first day at AHS when I realized the school was in those old kind of moldy looking buildings on the Naval Station! I remember working out my schedule with Mrs. Gandia and she was so insistent that I take Latin II, even though I was not enamored with Latin I and thought it might be nice to take Spanish. Of course when I walked into the class I found out she was the teacher and the group was so small that Latin I and II were actually taught at the same time! Wow. Kind of felt like I was in the Twilight Zone!

Funny how even at this age I can remember how different and exotic everything felt in PR. Mornings were wonderful before it got too hot. There is nothing like that tropical feel with warm trade winds and those beautiful fluffy clouds. Loved going into the old city on weekends and exploring. Everyone at school was really friendly....I guess probably because so many of them were used to moving so much and being "the new kid". I liked that the classes were small and the teachers really seemed to care. Of course Mr. Ramsey was my favorite....also loved Mrs. James, Mrs. Aumiller, and Mrs. Morales. And we did have fun! I remember picking up the rocks in the "football field" at Roosy Roads right before the game! Loved being a Jolly Roger and cheerleader. The Vieques trip where I really found out what it was like to be seasick...oh, but the beach was gorgeous. I rarely missed Navy Teen Club....and by the way, we did like it when kids came from Army and other places because it was definitely more lively! How about driving out to the airport to get free daiquiris? Going into clubs and getting a drink when you're 15...what? Guess we had opportunities to get in all kinds of trouble but somehow we survived. I'm so glad I was able to be there for the last 3 years of high school. What an experience....I will always treasure it.

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SUZI (SUZANNE WILLEY) SHOLDERS

We are moved! And, yes, I do remember going to the movies!!! And those guys were teasing us I remember. You were so cute!!!! I have so many memories of that theater. 25 cents for a movie. When I first got to PR I didn't know anyone so I remember going to the theater and saving all my stubs and writing the name of the movie on the back. I had boxes of them! How pathetic was I? Other memories: Days at Army Navy beach and looking for the eel that supposedly lived out by the reef Running into (literally) Frankie Avalon on the steps of the Condado Beach Hotel Going to the rain forest with Hazel Havre and her family The flamingos at the Caribe Hours and hours and hours of dancing my legs off at the teen club (my favorite place to be) Riding the "nicho" bus to Bayamon with Kim Stark to get our chickens for our science project (did we really kill those chickens and make that skeleton??!!) Riding the bus to school every day - that was an event! Wearing poufy petticoats that stuck to my legs because it was so hot and humid! The tug o war with that giant rope Kim not liking to throw the baseball overhand - they said she threw "like a girl"!! Eating those greasy French fries with tons of ketchup at the basketball games Mr Ramsey's ranking (every Monday I think) and I always wanted to be first! I think John and I went back and forth...at least that's what I tell myself. Palm trees - I still love them to this day and I live in Colorado Going to El Morro and sitting on the guns and taking pics The steel band playing when we arrived on the ancient USS Goethals - what a trip Sweet, sweet Mrs James - I was a Spanish major because of her - can't speak it anymore Going to Priscilla's (PC's) house and sleeping in the hammock and watching her boxer drink out of the pool and her adorable mom making us grilled cheese sandwiches and fried plantain. Trip to Vieques on the landing barge - who gets to do that stuff? Little league games at Ft Buchanan Looking for frogs on the golf course Trying to pretend we weren't drunk after prom (my pics are hilarious, Kim!!) I could go on and on with my little memories. I cried all the way back to California when we left in 1962. I never wanted to leave that island - and I have never been back. It would never be the same. I was sad that I couldn't graduate with my dear, dear friends.

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CATHY SIVILS

Going to school on the NAS certainly was 'different'. Being in such close proximity to the sailors & Marines who lived & worked, literally, in & around us, made for some most interesting moments

I remember sitting in class one day when we heard a couple of loud thumps on the roof. They were quickly followed by a litany of inventive cursing then the sudden drop of some hideous gold-colored 'stuff' floating down & covering the windows. We sat there in stunned fascination just staring at the ugly thing. Was this a 'Duck & Cover!' moment? Covered we were, did doing it backwards work? Then as quickly as it had dropped down, the glaring gold thing began rising - also to the tune of even more irate cursing. OK, this we had to see & everyone, even Mr. Henderson, rushed the windows & hung out, twisting ourselves to look up on the roof. We could hear muttering & an occasional flurry of gravel would rain down. Then one black-clad leg, encased a most shiny jump boot, swung over the side & onto the fire ladder. Another leg followed & finally, voila! a whole soldier appeared. Wearing a spiffy black jump suit topped off by a glittery gold helmet, he scrambled down the ladder, that butt-ugly gold thing haphazardly stuffed into the backpack he wore. Cackles & obscene name-calling floated up from the athletic field. There were a whole bunch more guys dressed just like him, only they were in the field having a smoke & their butt-ugly colored thingies were neatly rolled & in their arms. The Army Golden Knights were were practicing for a show only this sky soldier got blown a mite off- course to the never-ending amusement & abuse of his mates. With all that grass, the 2 huge fields next to one another, the roads, loading docks, a flight line & runway just a quick riser yank away but no, he had to hit the one, tiny, crummy, antique barracks/school in the area. Loved to have attended their post-jump report that evening. I know about 'blood wings' but what do they do when someone really screws the pooch, cut all their risers?

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HAL SWITZER

Wow...I have always thought I had a marvelous time in Puerto Rico! But you folks take the cake, I think! I do remember David teaching me to sail in his sailing dinghy in the Condado Lagoon, and my capsizing us in that water (I know that there was a least a little bit of really nasty water mixed in with the rest!), and the lesson I learned most that day was never to allow a sailboat I was aboard to capsize again! I also started out to practice for the Scottish play at San Cristobal, but after one or maybe two nights of practice, I decided it would be better to be home in bed at some decent hour. Now, in retrospect, it appears that maybe I should have taken the attitude that I could sleep later. I had no idea that the San Juan Star was such a new paper, but I remember substituting for Tom’s paper route in the Condado when his family went on vacation. Tom also showed me how to cook mercury fulminate in my mother's kitchen when my parents took off to the states one time and left their seriously responsible son in charge of the house in Puerto Rico....yikes!! Fortunately we didn't seriously damage anything, though one time we did get run out of the La Concha hotel by two pretty burly security guys. John reminded me that somehow, I and whoever was with me at the time managed to spend a few "pesetas" on Cuba libres in the various OSJ bars, plus Al' s Little Club in Santurce. Doug Bills introduced me to that one, and what a fine place it was indeed! At least once his dad came all the way from Trujillo Alto to pick us up after we could no longer see and it was a miracle that we could find a phone and that it worked, and we had the money to make the call. Somehow, we didn't get in any serious trouble for that!...at least I didn't . I wonder if Doug did? It was so good that when I showed up for work in San Juan with the FBI, I went looking for it....of course, it was no longer there, but I found the building, for sure. I was glad I went back to work there, and I've been back several times even after getting transferred out, but it never measured up to the high times as an Antilles High School student. My daughter went to Antilles High School, and my son to both the elementary and middle schools, I managed to get myself elected to the Antilles school board (I told everybody that they should elect me because I was the first graduate of the HS to try to get on the board...they bought it, and I was there for one year before we got sent back to WDC. No doubt more stuff will roll into memory. David, I most certainly remember AFR on the ADF while riding around the friendly skies...some days were just the greatest, and I've been touch with one of my regular "drivers" for about the last three years....he turned 20 at the very end of his one year tour! He was really good, and he always brought me home safe. I'd fly anywhere with him, even today, as I would no doubt with you also. Y'all keep the faith, and hope to see everyone this summer, somewhere.

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DODI (DIPASCA) THOMAS

I have not sent in anything recollections because there are so many since I was in PR beginning my 6th grade through 12th. What I remember most is how I would make new friends when they arrived and then they would leave. AS they left, some more new friends would come soon. It sometimes was difficult being the one left but at least there were others there with me like David, Priscilla, Butch, Wally, Vivian, Elizabeth and others who helped fill the gap. So we always had each other.

My most memorable recollection was how much I did not want my senior year to end. It was so much fun. I enjoyed all my classes, teachers (the good and the not so good), the activities at school (and away from school) and everyone. I told several people then I would gladly do my senior year over just because it meant so much to me. I have to admit there have been some recollections I don't recall. However, I am glad people are sharing and bringing back many memories.

Now I am excitingly plotting the navigational course for NOLA!! Dodi

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RUTH (DAVIS) WOLFORD

This is actually for Pirate Gumbo- I tried out for the girl`s chorus because I wanted to go on the trips they took--I might mention at this juncture that I can`t sing at all! I (I don`t even sing in the shower-it`s that bad) Anyway-Mr. Ryan heard my tryout-and asked me if I knew my voice was changing (- like a boy) I turned beet red with embarrassment, and noticing I was pretty upset- he allowed me to join the chorus-as long as I sang Alto and VERY low-I lip-synced my way through girl`s chorus-and had a great time! Ruthless

More Pirate Gumbo-and sort of relates to the non-happening senior trip to St. Thomas-Of course I was gone from PR by this time-but boy-is this a memory about St. Thomas and what you could call my personal senior trip there -My Dad was the Port Control officer of the Navy base- One of the things that they did for the community was to transport low-income children from San Juan to a summer camp in St. Thomas-Of course I said yes-BIG mistake! About 100 kids The tugboat hit bad weather going over-Now 100 VERY sea-sick kids-vomiting everywhere- Fortunately, I inherited My Dad`s cast-iron stomach-,think we were the only two non-sick people on the tug,- but when I tell you this was not a pretty picture, it wasn`t-I nearly missed a little kid vomiting on my head as I went up a ladder-When we arrive d in St. Thomas-they had to have a fire-boat hose down the whole tug before it was fit to return to San Juan- Ruthless

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52

Menudo

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54

Old San Juan

MARYANN

David, I have enjoyed your writing too. It is obviously from the heart and in spite of the two wonderful careers you have enjoyed you are not pretentious about your accomplishments. Your love of flying simply shines through. You are indeed blessed to have been able to do something that you are so passionate about.

I have to tell you that I am more than a little envious of those of you who got to know SJ / PR on an up close and personal level. I was never allowed to leave post without my parents or some other adult along and I think I missed out on a lot. (Apparently my younger brother, Robert, and Ray Gentry did not miss out on as much as I did. He told me recently about how they found the hole in the back fence and sneaked out when the MPs weren't looking :-). Obviously my parents and Chaplain Gentry weren't looking either! )

I have enjoyed every single story and feel like I am getting to know all of you again and some for the first time! Please keep sharing your stories.

As this beautiful Thanksgiving Day comes to a close and I reflect on the many things I am thankful for, those 3 years at AHS are very close to the top. As a teacher for 29 years I came to realize that every once in awhile you get a group of students who are exceptional, head and shoulders above the rest. I think that 1964 was one of those years. Even though I wasn't there for graduation, the class I did graduate with was also exceptional. Happy Thanksgiving fellow Pirates and blessings from our house to yours! Mary Ann

JOHN Aloha ka kou!

Mary Ann's comments (and those of some others) made me realize for the first time that not everyone got to experience Puerto Rico like most of us did. It was a fantastic place to wander around (and get into mischief in) when you were 15 or 16 or 17...Some of my most pleasant memories were wandering around El Moro, San Cristobal, Old San Juan (or La Perla) sketching, talking to people, observing life. I never felt unsafe and at that time all of life was there on the streets (or in the forts, ghosts of conquistadors and Spanish bullion ships...).

El Morro at night was particularly enchanting -- no people, just the wind blowing off the sea and up the sallyport, looking out towards Isla de Cabras and the ocean...magic.

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Or stopping at a bar on the way home -- in Old San Juan there was no age limit and if you had una peseta (25 cents) you could get a rum and coke. Then on to the guagua for the 5 cent ride back to Buchanan. A nickel was called "un vellon" after the buffalo that were on the back of the Indian head nickels that came into Puerto Rico in the turn of the century with the American occupation.

Or a mid day lunch of a pastalillo (15 cents), some refresco del pais (5 cents?) and dulce de batata (5 cents). Or fresh pan de aqua from the bakery up the street from where I worked at Pava Prints (15 cents for "media libra" -- a half pound of delicious french bread made with water, not milk, right out of the oven).

Or the beaches -- Luquillo with no one on it! or snorkeling at the Army-Navy Club by the Normandie Hotel

DAN

Ahoy mateys - Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. We just finished our first meal (of several to come) of leftovers. Of the many things I'm thankful for, one is that this meal only comes once a year. My body could never recover if it came more often.

Thanks David, for starting this round of discussions. And John for continuing with "Reflections..." (I think John was the first to use that phrase). It is great to read people's thoughts on events and memories that happened so many years ago. And cool that something someone else wrote can trigger so many other "Reflections".

Reading John's mention of El Morro reminded me of something I had not thought of for years. In one of the lower rooms in El Morro was the broadcasting station for the Armed Forces Radio Station. Doubt that anyone remembers, or if anyone ever actually listened, but there was an AFRS hour long show on Saturday morning called "The Big Blast", and a 30 minute show Monday to Friday in the summer called" The Musical Medic". The venue was just pop/rock music, mainly for kids. Jim Townsend and I were in the DJ club and hosted about half the Saturday shows and a couple days a week during the summer. There were two songs we were forbidden to play. "Cherry Pie", by Skip & Flip (the Ft Brook Post Commander's wife thought it was too suggestive), and an instrumental called “Strontium 90". Someone thought it was not politically correct (or whatever the term was then) to play it on an American Armed Forces station, with the Cold War and all that.

But the point was, after carousing around OSJ all night (we were supposed to be spending the night at each other's house), we would often crash in a couple of cots the regular DJs kept at the station. I can tell you, it took a lot of grog to spend the night in El Morro. For those of you that took the tropical vacation in RVN, I'm sure you listened to the Armed Services Radio Station. For those that did not go, you may have seen Good Morning Viet Nam, with Robin Williams.

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CHARLA I do remember the station and had a friend there...actually my parents' friend who did lots of theatre....Les Barkdull...did you know him? I remember the radio station being very mysterious...what a great experience for you to be part of that station. When I was in Macbeth at San Cristobal (which I never spell correctly) we could hear the radio station music in the ladies room>..I was later told by somebody that the DJs could hear us as well...talking in the ladies room...I remember confiding so many things to my friend Linda...I was mortified! (Hopefully YOU were not one of those people who overheard!)

TOM

And we had to run across the stage and up the ramp to blow the conch to signal the approach of MacDuff's army (and later to "hang out our banners on the outward walls"). When we first started rehearsing this, we sprinted up the ramp and now out of breath tried to figure out how to blow the conch, gamely eking out a symphony of rude flatulent brays and greatly amusing ourselves until the director suddenly appeared demanding to know what all the grabass was about.

But don't we thespians refer it as "the Scottish play"?

CATHY

If you say 'it's name', it is believed a great tragedy shall occur either to the player(s) or the house. Therefore, the mouthy one must run around the outside of the theater 3 times in an effort to appease the gods of ill-luck & vengeance and suffer the scorn & shunning of his/her fellow players.

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Grog – Don Q, Bacardi, Corona and Tropical Isles

DAVID

This is primarily for Hal and Charla in their quest for symbols of our Antilles experience. I have attached some pictures of some symbols and a memory for your enjoyment. Charla mentioned favorite beverages and Corona, Cantalicio and Bacardi immediately came to mind for some reason. The first picture is for Hal and is the backside of a Corona beer mug of the time, featuring Cantalicio. Just another idea since it is a strong memory of Antilles that most of us sometimes experienced that is associated with a mug.

Do you remember the Corona slogan, "El Sabor Lo Dice Todo"? The next three pictures are of the Bacardi symbol, label and a Cuba Libre which somehow seems appropriate for many as well. And do you remember, "El Bacardi Se Pasa Suave"? Just checking. How did we ever decide what to order? The last picture is a test. Can you identify Cantalicio's friends. I'll give you a hint - Cantalicio is in the center. Charla, I will send a separate response about your other questions. Like Dan, I am not quite sure how you are going to capture the enormity of the Antilles experience that has so affected our lives. Cheers - David . P.S. And the answer is, left to right, El Gallego, El Gringo, Cantalicio, Johnny El Men and Transitorio. I think his transistor radio may now have been replaced with a smart phone. It was a great group in those ads. You can see many by googling and on you tube. Of course Corona became Corona Extra of Mexico. And, yes, Johnny's name was El Men!

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DENNIS I am having a ball reading all of this. I'm impressed of how much stuff you all remember. Just for the record, the Corona Beer cartoon guy's name was Cantalicio and the preferred rums were Don Q and Superior, at least for us locals because the hangovers were milder. Don't forget India beer that is still made but only sold in the Mayagüez area. I agree that the trip to Vieques was a highlight for our class. I can never forget sitting on the landing raft what seemed forever to cross between the islands.

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DAN

Hey Dennis, good to hear from you. Now that you mention it I do remember Don Q. I also remember the Cataño Rum distillery, in obviously, Cataño, on the way from Fort Buchannan to Punta Salinas.

The Vieques trip - I remember buying a chrome plate bayonet at some junk store there. I think I paid about five bucks, and thought I had a treasure, until about two weeks later when all the chrome started flaking off.

But that does remind me of a trip in Viet Nam, on a LST, moving our battalion from Saigon to Chu Lai. About 20 Vietnamese on board, and every one of them got seasick. Not a pleasant day.

PRISCILLA

This is ironic. My cousins in Puerto Rico (all four of them males) turn up their noses at Bacardi, considered a Cuban rum. They much prefer Don Q, a genuinely Puerto Rican product. When I took my daughter to Puerto Rico for two weeks as a gift for her college graduation, we went to the Castillo Serrallés in Ponce and toured the grounds and mansion. I bought a beautiful bottle of Don Q Añejo, which is their top of the line sipping rum. I was so worried about it breaking in my suitcase I lugged it all the way back to Connecticut in my trusty backpack. Pete was thrilled. My back was not. We "natives" called a cuba libre "una mentira" (a lie). Need I say more?

BOB

These are mementos from my 1963 visit with Tito Wirshing in Ponce. My Dad drove me around the island to get recommendations from local Rensselaer graduates in support of my application to RPI. Tito entertained us in his basement bar. My introduction to Don Q rum was a couple of tasty frozen Margaritas. . . When I slid off the bar stool my legs felt like rubber! I decided then and there to avoid alcohol in the future. Obviously my judgment was impaired. . .

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DAVID

My father purchased a 30-foot island sloop not long after we arrived in Puerto Rico. We affectionately named her "Gordita", as she was sort of broad of beam and short on speed. Her home port was Santa Isabel, a small fishing village to the east of Ponce. We usually sailed her out to a mangrove island called Beberia and would anchor on the west (lee) side in the grassy, sandy bottom for some exploration and spearfishing. It was there I saw my first sharks, at close range in shallow water. Scared the hell out of this young kid. Another day a tiger shark came by the boat feasting on a school of baitfish. We didn't go in the water that day. And in the channel that cut through the island we once encountered a huge barracuda, again feasting on baitfish. The channel would take us to the windward side of the island where there was a barrier ocean reef. The water dropped off rapidly east of the reef and so we fished along the rocky edge

61 where lobster and grouper were plentiful. But this is not the story I wanted to relate. In response to Barnacle Bob's posting ...

... Looming south of Ponce is a mysterious island called Caja de Muertos, Coffin Island to gringos. From a distance it profiles like someone resting on his back as in a coffin. I say "his" because at the highest point of land, there is a lighthouse, the location of which is at the anatomically correct part of the poor soul's abdomen. This clearly made our departed soul a dead man. Muertos was a longer sail for us in more open waters and we did not go there often. Sometimes we towed behind the boat holding onto a homemade diving plane. There was one area on the way there that was probably 50-75 deep and covered with the biggest and most magnificent sea fans I had (and have) ever seen. I also recall huge manta rays "flying" out of the distant, deeper waters.

As we approached Muertos on our first visit, a black motor yacht pursued us and closed to within hailing distance. We were asked by the gentleman on board about what we were doing out there and what our intentions were. We were advised that Muertos was his island and not public property. This fellow mariner introduced himself - it was Tito Wirshing, owner not only of Caja de Muertos, but also of Don Q. He was gracious enough to welcome us to the island and we had his approval to return any time. We made our first anchorage off the small pier at the northwest end of the island, at the dead man's neck. There we found a small shack called the Pistol Club and we celebrated our voyage and of fending off the Pirate Wirshing with a few sodas. I will always remember the sign inside the place. It said, "Join the Pistol Club - Drink til 12 Piss til 2".

The weather and seas were perfect and we would anchor for the night off the northeast corner of the island. Going ashore had all the aspects of Treasure Island and we excitedly explored our "Dead Man's Chest". We were sure we found where the treasure was buried, so many steps this way and that from a very unique tree, but had nothing to dig with. We made our way along trails through some heavier foliage, inhabited by an occasional monkey, up to the lighthouse. What a spectacular view, not only of Muertos with its turquoise waters of many shades, but of Puerto Rico and her mountains to the distant north. We did some diving off the east end in water clearer than any I had ever seen. The coral, in all its glory in the late '50's, was a wonder of our world and we relished the moment.

Sailing to and exploring Muertos was one of the finest experiences of my young life. Thank- you, Bob, for reminding me of Tito Wirshing and that day. I have attached some pictures, the first two taken that day. The first is of Gordita at anchor with Puerto Rico in the background. The second is of my brother Jan and I with our dingy in those pristine waters at the east end. The third is of young Jan and I on Gordita. Fourth is of Jan preparing to dive off Beberia. The last is of Caja de Muertos from space. Jan has been back to Muertos in recent years on Vixen II, only to find the waters heavily polluted with limited visibility and the coral largely dead. We are not good stewards of this earth. And I am sad to say that we were not that day either.

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63

Sorry, Wrong Number

CATHY

Speaking of plays, do you remember our production of Sorry, Wrong Number at the NAS with Mr. Voight directing? And that we played the theme of Peter Gunn while the audience came in?

DAN

Funny you should mention that. John and I were talking about that just today. I wanted to be the killer but Vaught picked John. I got to be the "sound effects department" that played the Peter Gunn theme (a show my Dad never missed prior to moving to PR). And I probably only got that due to my glorious experience as a DJ. Ahh, but for that I'm sure I would have gone on to star on the silver screen.

CATHY

I worked on props. Let me see, who was it, Miriam who was the operator? She sat on a barstool & 'whined' whenever she took a 'call'. Daddy let me beg a headset & other telephone stuff from the radio room at the Air Detachment.

CHARLA

Tom...and all...I wish I had been brilliant but it is kind of you to say so...:>I KNOW I am the corn ball of this group, but reading all of the comments about the Scottish play and Sorry Wrong Number means a lot...I guess it is partly because at the time (as I have mentioned before! and before and before) I was a bit shy and alone with my thoughts...it is such fun to read everyone's views on my experiences...it is really fun and very meaningful...past and present somehow merging...I have forwarded some of your descriptions to my brother and sister about memories of my Mom in her role as Lady Macbeth...thanks everybody for sharing...Sincerely, Charla

PS Somebody mentioned my role in the Scottish play...I was Young Macduff...a boy and I was killed dramatically against a column...a great death moment...! Gosh, I just remembered I was killed in Sorry Wrong Number as well...does this mean something?

TOM

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We go every year to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, OR—11 plays in all over the year (3 or 4 Shakespeare). This was where I finally “got" several of the plays—it’s amazing how they come to life when you can hear and understand lines delivered with the emotion that was originally intended. And now, it feels like I’ve seen the Scottish play a gazillion times, done a gazillion different ways. One production in a small theater had seven actors all playing a multiple parts and all wearing white robes made of some gauzy material. The simple stage had a hole in the center containing a pool of blood. Every time something ominous happened, an actor would dip a finger into the pool of blood and kind of flick it onto the stage. By the end of the play, everyone was covered in blood and of course, the crown that was the object of it all ended up in the pool of blood. People either loved or hated this production—I loved it! I’ve also seen productions where Banquo’s ghost just materialized amidst the dinner guests and even though I knew he was going to, I totally missed how he got there—supernatural, man!

CHARLA

I have often (well not too often!) wondered why Sorry Wrong Number was chosen since I had almost all of the lines...Elizabeth Earle had to scream for me since I could not scream loud enough...I remember being embarrassed that I had so much to say and others did not...although of course I was brilliant in the part...except for not being able to scream...c.

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Chemistry Class and AHS Teachers

TOM

Mr Hense, really. But all I remember of him was coloring in world maps (really!!) in World History. I liked Mr Rushford a lot. He went away to a course for science teachers at Oak Ridge and came back with a lot of cool ways to demonstrate science-y things. He also came back with a vial full of uranium filings that I later doused Dave Lewis (I think) with (and that Mrs Morales had to collect down on her hands and knees with a geiger counter). Mr Smith stands out for me as not only a good math teacher (and it was math after all!), but also the guy that changed the tired old senior-year Advanced Math class to calculus (of course, this led to me getting AP credit for Freshman year mat and immediately getting way out of my mathematical depth!)! I thought he actually made it to superintendent of Antilles Schools. Of course, for me, Mrs Morales was really the top. Her Advanced Chemistry class (with four of us in it—another huge benefit of Antilles was its ability to add these little boutique classes) led to me never having to take Chemistry again ;-) (again, of course, I had a project a few years ago where I had to go back and relearn all that stuff)! There were a number of teachers with whom I shared a mutual low regard, some of whom, like Mr Vaught and Mr Hedrick) are on your B-list ;-) There were probably a lot more who held me in low regard, but only Mr Hedrick threatened to punch me in the nose—when he said that, it did get me to shut up (for a while at least). KIM

This message triggered a sweet memory of Mrs. Morales and her subtle and still powerful way of helping us cope with being self conscious teenagers. At one of the dances I wore a pretty pink sort of revealing neckline dress and she told me to stand tall and be proud of the way I looked...paraphrased, of course, but I remember that her understanding about that situation has stuck with me all these years. She was a real person without a heavy hand. She was a wonderful female role model! Kim TOM

I went out with a number of very hot, very smart women at MIT and I’ve worked with a whole bunch of them for the last 45 years or so—they definitely did not bury their sexuality to devote themselves to science, so I still don’t accept that generalization (and I think Mrs Morales—who when pregnant and I was trying to bargain with her to let me go into San Juan and said, “I have a proposition for you, Mrs Morales," said in return, “You’re too late, Tom!”—wouldn’t have accepted the generalization either)! You may have sampled from a different population though. I think your view is a fairly common one, though, and has kept a lot of very smart and capable women out of science--which is a shame! Women still have to “Lean In” (to steal from Sheryl Sandberg, COO of Facebook) though and a lot of people still think they’re uppity when they do.

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TOM

From what I’ve seen, I think the thing that set apart Mrs Morales, Mr Ramsey, Mr Smith, and most of the rest of the AHS teachers (even ones that I wasn’t particularly crazy about) was the fact that they actually liked to teach and they felt a responsibility to help their students learn and took pride in that. I think the thing that AHS had going for it (for the most part) was that it was able to recruit teachers like that and then gave them the support and resources (apparently) to do so. It’s hard to imagine another school that would have created an advanced chemistry class for 4 students, a Caribbean History course or a Philosophy course. I think I mentioned in an earlier note that my folks probably stayed at least two years past the point where my Dad dearly wanted to get off the island just so I could stay at Antilles!

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JFK Assassination – November, 1963

JFK AND I -- DAVID

Good Morning All - Fifty-two years ago, when I was much younger, age 15 actually, I had a chance to photograph President Kennedy as he passed by me in a motorcade. For these many years, the picture I took that day has resided among the hundreds, if not a thousand, of my father's 35mm slides. I thought that today, the 50th anniversary of the assassination, would be an appropriate time to share my story and photos with family and friends. The day I describe is as clear in my mind now as if it happened yesterday. I hope you find this interesting. It was a big moment in my early life. Regards – David.

The day was December 15, 1961. President John F. Kennedy was coming to San Juan, Puerto Rico for a brief visit with Governor Luis Muñoz Marin. The city was quite excited in anticipation of the visit, as was I. My mother and I had gone to the airport to see the arrival of President Eisenhower the year before and now I had the opportunity to see a second President of the United States. Unlike today, it really meant something to a young kid back then.

I planned my day to see as much as I reasonably could, though I knew the moments would be fleeting. Not only was the President coming, but with him was - no not Jacqueline - but Air Force One! I wanted to see her land, I wanted to see the President and I wanted a closer look at Air Force One. My plan took shape. I would first await the landing from along the perimeter fence on the Isla Verde side of the runway, opposite the touchdown zone. Then I would head for a spot as close as I could to the route of the motorcade. And finally, I would ride back up the terminal side of the airport to get a closer look at Air Force One. I grabbed my Kodak Brownie, actually my father’s trusty 35mm, and headed out on my bike.

It was only about two and a half miles from our home in Punta Las Marias to the airport. In those days, there wasn’t much development on the north side of the runway past the El San Juan Hotel. There was a chain link fence and some Australian pines along the airport perimeter. I knew the area well, having ridden this route countless times, almost daily, to watch and dream about airplanes. One of my favorite places was a perch up in a pine opposite the approach end of Runway 08. The prevailing easterly tradewinds make this the active runway most days of the year, as it was that day. It was also my private place. There was not a soul around, not even the Secret Service. I climbed up my tree and waited.

I was intentionally a little early; though I knew Air Force One would be on time, likely to the minute. Just as an aside, 15 years later at the Pentagon during my Air Force career, I initially got to fly Sabreliners once a week out at Andrews AFB with the 89th Wing. That is the unit that also flys the President. Of course, I never was in the Special Air Missions (SAM) section, but I did

68 fly VIP’s, mostly general officers and Assistant Secretaries of the Air Force and the like, around the country. The closest I ever came to Air Force One at the time, was picking up my .38 Special from the armory in their hangar. I had to walk under the tail of Air Force One to get there. Can you imagine being given a gun and loading it, all within a few feet of the Presidential plane! Believe it or not, we carried the revolver in an ankle holster, just in case of a hi-jacking on board the little five passenger Sabreliner! But I digress. What I wanted to say was, that when carrying VIP’s, the flight is planned so that after landing you stop the aircraft on the designated spot at exactly the scheduled time, to the second. We even had a braking procedure to minimize any aircraft reaction as you came to a stop. If you were arriving early, we tried to delay landing with vectors from air traffic control. In that case you would land on the runway farthest from the arrival area and taxi by the longest route and at a snail’s pace, all to hit the brakes at the proper moment, to the second. If you we running late, well, you flew fast, got priority handling and taxied real fast to arrive on time. All this says is that we and Air Force One flew on time, to the second. I knew JFK would not be late. Not so sure about this President ...

The moment finally arrived and, yes, Air Force One was on time. In those days she was a shiny silver VC-137A, a specially modified VIP version of the Boeing 707. As was the custom at the time, she had highlights of international orange on her nose and tail and her engine nacelles were white. She was beautiful. I got the camera ready and steadied myself. There would only be one chance to capture the landing. It was a beautiful afternoon in the tropics and Air Force One was a spectacular sight as she touched down. I judged it to be a good landing! I clicked the shutter. The first part of my plan had worked out well.

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Now to find my spot near the motorcade. I quickly climbed down from the tree, crossed the grassy field to the beach road and peddled as fast as I could to a spot just east of Supermercado Todos, across from the Memorial Cemetery in Isla Verde. My new perch would be atop a chain link fence along the Baldorioty de Castro Expressway. I didn’t know how long it might be before the motorcade so I climbed up, clinging to a pole, and waited. I think those around me thought I was nuts. They could see just fine from ground level, but I wanted an unobstructed view for a photo. My perch turned out better than I could ever have expected.

President Kennedy was riding on my side in the bubbletop Lincoln where I would have a great look down at him, but the motorcade was traveling rather fast. I would have to track him carefully with the camera and hope for the best. I had no time to adjust the camera exposure settings. Remember that I was the only one standing atop a chain link fence. As the President came by, he noticed me, looked up, smiled and waved! I clicked the shutter and hoped to capture the moment. Today one would say it was an OMG moment! Remembering him looking up at me is fixed in my memory and still brings tears to my eyes.

The motorcade passed and I was on to my last objective back at the airport. Air Force One had parked just below the observation deck where my mother and I had seen Ike. My usual haunt at the terminal was on the ramp road immediately below the terminal and adjacent to the tarmac. I could go anywhere on my bike in those days and no one ever challenged me. But today was different. It became clear that they were not going to let this kid on his bicycle anywhere near Air Force One. The best I could do was to go up to the observation deck. The sun was getting lower as I took my last picture and Air Force One was aglow in the golden light. I stayed there a long time and just thought about the day and my encounter with JFK.

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Sadly, 50 years ago to this day, November 22, 1963, the world would lose John Kennedy. They say that we all remember where we were that day. I certainly do. As student body president at Antilles High School, I was on exchange that day at a Catholic Girls School. That is nother story but it was strange to be the only guy in a classroom of giggling girls being hushed by their teacher, a nun. I would learn of the assassination as I returned to my school. I found my classmates slumped against the walls in disbelief of what had transpired. It was a difficult day for us and the rest of the country to come to grips with. I was even more thankful for my “JFK and I” moment.

Unbeknownst to me was that my nephew, Walter Gaides, would be born that very day. Clearly, he does not remember what happened on his birthday, but like all of us, he has not now forgotten it either. So Happy Birthday Walter on your 50th.

I learned that day that I was not much of a photographer, at least with a camera where you had to manually set speeds and exposure to match the lighting. There were no digital cameras in those days. So what you see below are the results. I always thought the picture of JFK in the motorcade was better than it is. I clearly needed to adjust the exposure setting and I led the moving car by too much, almost missing the President. But if you look hard you can indeed recognize the smiling JFK as he looked up at me and waved. I am more pleased with the pictures of Air Force One. Incidentally, many years later I was able to go aboard JFK's Air Force One. She lives with other distinguished Presidential aircraft, among them Ike's Columbine IV Constellation, at the Air Force Museum in Dayton. Cheers!

THE NIGHT IT RAINED -- DICKIE

The week had been a long, tiring one. The days were drawn out, with all minds and hearts turned toward the end of the week.

When Friday morning came around, it was hard to believe. The weather was mild and the sun poked its head out of the clouds now and then. It was expected to be one of the biggest days of the year. We were going out that night to show the Ramey Bombers that no one could put the Pirates down. School spirit was high. Blackboards rang out with slogans telling of the mighty Bombers' fate. Every period shouts could be heard from various classrooms as to which team was the best.

The day went by in a noisy manner, and teachers gave up trying to teach. This was the students' day. The day that the Pirates would be tied for the league championship.

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During mid-afternoon the nervousness among the players could be clearly seen. They all had on their white shirts and black ties, ready to greet the Bombers for a good dinner and a heck of a football game.

The last period of the day finally ended. The buses loaded up and began to take the kids home so that they might get ready for the big game that night. Only the teachers, players and a few stragglers were left at school, and almost all of these were standing in the hall in small groups listening to the intercom. It took a little while before anyone knew what was going on, and most shrugged it off as a joke. The President has been shot, ha, it could never happen. Later the report was confirmed. The President was dead. Everything was cancelled. People cried. That night a few players stood by the deserted field. That night it rained, as if God Himself was crying out, no, it can't happen.

CATHY

I, too, vividly remember that day in San Juan when President Kennedy came to San Juan. Being a search & rescue pilot, my Dad was off that day. One of his fellow pilots, Mr. Wedgewood, convinced him, and to this day I don't know how, that they had to go see him on his motorcade - wearing their dress whites complete with swords! My father was a dyed-in-the-wool Republican & loathed dress whites. But on that day, two Coast Guard pilots, resplendent in their dress whites & swords, stood in the heat with their families across from the Caribe Hilton awaiting their Commander-in-Chief. When he approached, they snapped to attention & rendered him a fine salute. And with a broad grin, their Commander returned it.

Two years later, I got to hear the President make a speech in Tampa. His next stop, Texas.

GIN

I was in homeroom in dear Mr. Scheurman’s room at Cheyenne Central High School when the initial announcement came over the PA. I remember staring at the little box and thinking, “It has to be a mistake.” After all, we had seen and heard President Kennedy speak at UW in Laramie a mere two months previously. We went through our usual schedules, and then I was in Mr. Crowley’s Problems of Democracy class when the news came. We students were stunned, but Mr. Crowley dropped his head onto his desk and sobbed.

The base, headquarters for all those missile silos scattered over the plains of Wyoming and Nebraska, was instantly secured, and Daddy was sequestered in a command post somewhere. Mother, Ann, and I, though, spent the next how many days? in our TV room, watching and listening to the unbelievable.

That time is so real, yet unreal, it could have happened yesterday.

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DAN

Wow, what memories have surfaced over this tragedy. "JFK and I" - thanks David, that was a great recollection for something that happened so long ago, but it's obviously one of the things you never forget. While reading that I wondered if you just recently put it to words or if you had started it years ago. Regardless, it was terrific, and I felt as if I were sitting on that fence next to you. (Of course today, and partly due to the assassination of JFK, you would be arrested and interrogated for hours for doing something like that. No one would believe that a fifteen year old kid would be so wrapped up in his feelings for a President and his airplane. You would have to be up to something dishonorable). But from the many responses from the class, glad to see that John and I are not the only ones looking forward to your book.

And "The Night it Rained". What a statement! That would make anyone tear up. Thanks Bob for forwarding that.

I was in drafting class in El Paso. Our Vice Principal, Mr. Quizenberry, came to our class and announced what had happened. He was also the Government and Civics teacher, and was a true JFK supporter - he just totally broke down. I think that was the first time I understood what "shock" meant. What an unbelievable thing to have happened. Of course everyone remembered Lincoln from history class, and fewer probably remembered McKinley and Garfield, but this was NOW! Impossible! And for those of us that lived in Texas, the whole blame thing was hard to deal with, even though we had had no more to do with it than anyone else.

DAVID C

I'll weigh in with my JFK recollections. I saw JFK in person with my friend in Albuquerque who drove us out to the Western Skyes Hotel in his Ford Model A. We were quite the curiosity in that car. We managed to catch a glimpse of the President as he waved to the audience, but we thought it was just to us.

I recounted the story of 11/22/63 at the AHS reunion in St. Augustine where I gave a short speech about my days at AHS. We had an assembly that day, I think it was a pep rally for the football game against Ramey. As Jeff Snyder walked up the steps to the stage he accidentally knocked over the American flag and people gasped. The next thing I remember hearing was the PA announcement as I was about to get on my bus, that the President had been shot. The symbolism of the falling flag is ever with me when I think of the assassination.

JOHN

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I also remember it well -- I was in Fayetteville, North Carolina and was in an afternoon class. It was hot and still outside and they put on the school internal speakers -- the one in each room where announcements were made by the principal. There was static and it was clearly a radio broadcast -- and then the first clear word was "Dallas" and then the reporting continued.

As soon as I heard the word Dallas I knew that something awful had happened. I guess I was aware that the President was there and he was not very popular in the South (my public HS was still segregated then -- except for a handful of black kids from Ft. Bragg that they had accepted that year under threat of the military taking out ALL of its students.)

The rest is a blur -- but to today I remember the "cackle/hiss" of the intercom and the word "Dallas". PRISCILLA

I've so enjoyed reading your varying recollections about that day. I, too, was on a student council exchange that day, at Robinson High School in the Condado. We were on our way home (someone's mother was driving, I think), when quite suddenly the usual afternoon traffic through Santurce came to an abrupt halt. People were getting out of their cars, shouting, crying, gesturing, and we thought at first it was a car accident, only to hear from a fellow motorist about the assassination. We quickly turned on the radio, but it was clear that we weren't going anywhere soon. Amidst the confusion we turned to each other in disbelief. What struck me most was the genuinely felt sorrow expressed by the people around us. Both men and women were wailing, and soon we were, too. I don't even remember how we finally got home, only that I needed to be with my family.

Dave, thanks for your description and the photos of Air Force One. And Kennedy IS looking at you! TOM

I was thinking about the same thing, though my memory is slightly different—we had just finished the pep rally for the big game. Some of the linemen, me included, had dressed up as cheerleaders and we were still in costume when we heard the shocking news. Puerto Rico seemed so distant and isolated then. It did rain that night—appropriately—and several of us did wind up standing around the empty, dark and now meaningless field, trying vainly to make sense out of senselessness.

KIM

I believe that the high for the football game carried us all into a space that was going to be difficult to dislodge, let alone by something as unbelievable as the assassination of the President! I agree, Tom, that there was a certain feeling of isolation in Puerto Rico…..we didn’t even have a TV and maybe not a radio, so that sense of disconnect was even more

74 pronounced. I don’t remember the exact moment of connecting to the reality of what had happened, as the shock was so great, but I do remember going to friends’ homes to watch the funeral procession and all that came before and after. I couldn’t get enough of the reality by that time. Such a stunning introduction into the “real world”.

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Memories of Nora (the following was sent in by Nora’s family to share with the Pirates of 1964)

Mark Carrigan, Nora's father

I am speaking on behalf of Nora Linda Carrigan, a member of your class who died in 1993. The happiest days of her life were spent at her beloved Antilles High School.

She enjoyed the camaraderie with her classmates--boys and girls. Also she was very fond of her teachers, especially Sandy Morales, Mr. Smith and Mr. Ramsey, and others she talked about frequently. She made many friends.

She liked sports very much, too, and was a cheerleader for the football team. She did play some basketball--but didn't fare so well, suffering a broken jaw in a collision with a fellow player.

On graduation, she matriculated to Vassar College in Poughkeepsie, NY where she graduated with a Sociology degree. While there she met and started dating a West Point cadet. The military academy being only an hour of so away.

Her departure from Puerto Rico was memorable indeed. As the Carrigan family boarded the boat to depart San Juan Harbor who should show up but the Army Band playing the rousing tune, "Hey, Look Me Over," the theme song of the Jolly Rogers played at football games and other events. Needless to say there were tears in Nora's eyes (and the rest of family’s eyes).

Nora and Jerry did get engaged after her graduation and soon thereafter married. But it turned out not to be a happy marriage.--and after a few years they divorced. Thereafter her health declined and kept declining until she passed away in 1993.

She carried with her the many fond memories of her beloved Antilles High School--the wonderful friendships she enjoyed there. That truly was the happiest time of her life.

Marietta's Remarks, Nora’s mother

Mark has pretty much summed up our feelings. About the breaking-her- jaw-playing event when she on return to the clinic for her check-up, she found the waiting room full of sailors also with broken jaws and they asked her, "How did you get yours?"

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Remember the Class of 1964 yearbook signing party at the Carrigans quarters at Fort Brooke in San Juan. We didn't know she had invited everyone to come. But we did enjoy their coming over.

From Nora's sister Kim (slightly edited)

Nora had many fond memories of Antilles High: her classmates, classes and activities; the Jolly Rogers, the class trip to St. Thomas, the sunshine and beaches, and her challenging and inspiring teachers (including Mom). She was sad to leave Antilles, knowing that her classmates/friends would be moving on and that she would miss them dearly.

Nora's life after Antilles presented many challenges and rewards - educational (went on to get BA and MA in sociology); a marriage that sadly did not last forever; her two beautiful daughters. Nora's advice/life lessons --> stay close to your family and friends; don't be afraid to reach out to them in both good and difficult times. Her wishes to classmates would be that they be happy and well (and enjoying their retirement?).

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Memorial Day 2014

MARY ANN

This spoke to me quite strongly. I hope you don't mind me sharing… Mary Ann CATHY

Today is Memorial Day and I'd like to take a few moments to express my thoughts. Many years ago, Our Dads (and even our Moms), answered a frantic call to serve their country during a time of terrible conflict and horror. It was not just for America they left homes and families but for the whole global family as well. And when they did, they were to unknowingly give us, their children, an incredible, if a times upside-down and sideways, life filled with marvelous experiences few are privileged to have. There aren't many who can say they've watched history unfold in their own backyards.

Some of you have also served; I sincerely thank you and am very proud to call you 'friend and classmate'. Some chose a less conventional path and I take delight in your quiet determination to make life better for those living in forgotten places. Others followed the traditional roads and you brought life, learning, love, health, safety, wisdom, justice, curiosity, law, music, beauty and solace into the worlds of many. Some of you have followed your hearts while some of you have led with your hearts. Some of you have gladly offered your hearts to those in need but some of you have left a piece of your hearts behind forever. However, they are all hearts that were forged in a community some have described as is its own unique ethnic group marked by its remarkable strength, resilience, humor and sense of honor and giving. It's the community our Dads brought us into.

For those no longer with us, may you know you haven't been forgotten. And to whatever G-d you follow, please may He or She keep your names inscribed as a blessed memory for all eternity. And to those who struggle, know there are many of us who understand and there are those of us willing to learn. If we took nothing else from our childhoods it's that no one ever needs to be alone just because they are "different'. We are, after all, nothing but mirrors of one another. The differences one sees are matters of fact, the rest is just commentary.

Service to country and our fellow man comes in many forms and we, of all people, know that well for we are the children of The Greatest Generation. They were very ordinary people from all walks of life; immigrants, first generation Americans, some descendants of those who came over on the Mayflower, some of those who were here to greet them. Rich, poor, educated & not, all colors, sizes and everything in-between. Their very basic expectations of life got ripped apart and challenged by a fury neither of their making nor of a scope they could ever have imagined in their worst nightmares. And yet, with their simple sense of justice, fair

78 play and ingenuity they prevailed against terrible odds. It's the very generation we proudly call our parents. Now they were not perfect, not by a long shot much less a country mile, that's why they're called 'human'. But whether or not they finished standing as tall, eager & idealistic like they were in the beginning or weary, disillusioned & angry matters not, the fact remains they chose to serve whatever the cost - both friend and stranger. And somewhere along the line, in both the good times and bad, we learned to appreciate what we had been given. Thank you, Daddy.

In loving memory of:

CDR Tal Sivils, USCG - 1941-1973 SN 1Cl June Sivils, USCG - WWII YN 1Cl Janet Bush, USCG - WWII GM 2Cl Joe Bush, Sr, USCG - WWII A1C Joe Bush, Jr, USAF - VN SrA Rod Bush, Jr, USAF - VN Amn Mike Kierney, USAF - VN (KIA)

In loving honor of:

LTCOL John Sivils, USA - Iraq LTCOL David Waller, USA - Gulf War 1st LT Bryan Boyanowski, USA- Iraq & Afghanistan

Cathy DAVID

Thank you Cathy. I would like to add the following to those you have memorialized:

LtCol Virgil B. Lindsey, USAF - WWII, Korea, Vietnam PFC Robert E. Miles, USMC - WWII Amn Albert E. Epperson, USAF - Korea All Fathers of our Antilles Classmates that served in WWII 2Lt Maxie R. Williams, USMC - Vietnam KIA 2Lt John K. House, USA - Vietnam KIA Cap Michael D. McGovern, USAF - Vietnam 1Lt Charles L. Kollenberg, USAF - Vietnam 1Lt Elmon C. Caudill II, USAF - Vietnam 1Lt Jon M. King, USAF – Vietnam

These are those that I think about, Fathers, Pirate Friends and Pilots with whom I had the

79 pleasure of serving in Vietnam. Thank you for remembering them with me.

GIN

Thank you, Cathy. I'd like to add to your lists:

In loving memory

Virgil B. "Ace" Lindsey--WWII, Korea, Vietnam

Julian Astor Lindsey--WWII

Charles Ward Highsmith--WWII

Jack House--Vietnam

Ray Williams--Vietnam

In loving honor

George Herring Highsmith, Jr.--WWII

David B. Bogart--Vietnam

Dan Copeland--Vietnam

All other Pirates who served in whatever capacity

DAVID

And don't forget that of those other Pirates are our own: Harold W. Switzer, USA, Richard L. Van Beber USA, Steven G. Lyons USA, and Paul B. Daniel, USAF. There are no doubt others that also served. Please come forward and let us know.

KIM

This all brings up such conflicting feelings...sadness and gratitude. I am thinking that Phil Hogue was also killed in Vietnam. Jorge Torres flew helicopters there and survived...... Kim

MARY ANN

Thanks to all of you. I would like to add to the list: In memory of: Jesse Charles Copeland, USA, WWII, Harold Sanders, USA, WWII , William G. Hollomon Jr. USAF, WWII ; and in honor of: Lt.

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Col. Robert E. Copeland, WWII, Korea, Viet Nam, Capt. Robert E. Copeland Jr, Korea, Mary Copeland, USMarines, , Mark Phillip Copeland, USA, Korea, also USNavy, David Copeland, USArmy, Larry Copeland, USNavy, 1LT William G. Hollomon, USA, Vietnam, James C. Hollomon, USA, Dean W. Lewis, USAF May these men and women be honored and respected for the service that they have given for our country.

A salute also to all of the Mothers and Wives who waited patiently, never knowing when or if they would see their loved ones; who were single parents in a special way and held things together at home. To the children, who waited for their Dad's to come home and who moved again and again so that our country could be free and others countries also. May they also be remembered and honored for their unrecognized service to their country.

DENNIS

Adding a few Puerto Ricans in my family on our list:

Pedro Rivera, USA, WWI Hector Negron, USA, WWII José Rodríguez, USA, WWII Victor Rodríguez, USA, WWII Roman Rodriguez, USAF, Korean War Darrick Negron, USAF Dennis

DAVID

Thank-you Dennis - Am I correct that you served with the Puerto Rico Air National Guard? If so, you and your family members were part a long, distinguished line of Puerto Rican airmen, soldiers and sailors that fought so valiantly in WWI, WWII, Korea and Vietnam. Please pass on to your family our thanks and that we are honoring their service, and yours, today.

DAN

Thanks Mary Ann and Cathy, for starting this thread. Adding my Dad, SFC M. L. Copeland - WWII, Korea, Viet Nam Uncle E. W. Copeland - WWII DAVID

Honoring our fathers and the families of those who served, especially those that did not return, is something I think we can all agree on. It was a another unique experience at Antilles to be

81 among service members from all five branches of our armed forces. I can think of no better tribute to them than to be gathering together fifty years later, all of us products of these fine men and women. Thanks Dan

MARY

This is Mary West when I was in PR. I would like to add my husband LTC (Ret) Richard E Wilson USA for 32 years. He was in Vietnam with the 199th. Thanks to all that served!

MARY ANN

I agree David. It still amazes me that we were all there together on that small island, including civilian branch, FBI . As a side note, I was out eating with my book club a couple of months ago and 4 very large young men came in. When I looked at the back of their T-shirts it said Homeland Security! I didn't know we even had them in Columbus, but they assured me that they are here all of the time. Between the infantry at Ft. Benning, and now the large artillery that shakes all of our houses, homeland security and who knows who else, I usually feel pretty safe. On the other hand, we are also a main target… as we were during the Cuban Missile Crisis in PR. Thanks to all of those who still protect us and others around the world.

DENNIS

Dave, You are correct, I served in the PR Air National Guard for 18 years after my USAF 4 yrs active duty service. Thanks, Dennis

MIMI

I was an Army Officer, and served as Chief of the Academic Records Branch at the US Army Armor School, Ft. Knox, KY. This was during a period when 8,000 to 10,000 students were being trained each year....

DAVID

Hi Marguerite - I thought you had served, but knew nothing of the details. There are more of us than I ever realized. We are so fortunate that we are veterans and not ones that we

82 memorialize today. I guess our day comes later in the year, but I think it proper to honor, as we are doing, all service and not just of those who have fallen. Thank you for sharing your service with us.

MIMI

Thank you for your service, as well!

I'm remembering my relatives today, and am grateful that they returned home safely:

Arthur C. Fontaine WWI US Army Arthur A. Fontaine WWII US Coast Guard Roger Fontaine peacetime US Navy Paul Dion WWII US Navy Ernest R. Peterson WWII Canadian Air Force Lloyd E. Peterson Vietnam US Navy

JOHN Cathy, Very nice memo.

I came from the parents of poor immigrant families who came ca. 1912-14 (so they might have served in either the Danish Army or the Austrian Hungarian Army in WWI if they had not emigrated).

To your list I can only add my Father -- Walter James Dixon -- who initially was a CO in WWII and served with the American Field Service as an ambulance driver with the British Eight Route Army (Monty) in North Africa in 1942-43 before entering the US Army in 1944. He served in Korea and Vietnam before retiring in 1972.

DAVE L

1st family veterans: - My Dad served in both WWII (as a combat infantryman), Korea (regimental Chaplain in the 15th Regiment, 3rd Division) serving alongside the 65th Infantry, Puerto Rican National Guard, and retired in 1969 shortly after the family returned from Fort Brook in 1966. - Brother John - a sophomore when we graduated - was a "rat rig" operator in Viet Nam, and later commissioned as an Armor Officer from USF - Brother Mark - youngest - later served in Army and retired from the Navy as a Chief

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As for me, it was off to Penn State for a year, then into the Army in '65 - interim stops at Fort Know where I ran into the West girls and Ken Clark and was commissioned via Armor OCS in '66. Then on to Fort Campbell in (66-67) and able to spend some time with Dick Van Beber before deploying to Viet Nam ('67-'68) for a tour with the 2/47 Mech Infantry. Retired from the Army in '85.

Am looking forward to learning where you, Hal, Dick, Steve and others may have been during that time frame - just glad we are are all able to share the memories.

Let the good times roll!

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The Switzer Mug

DAVID

Hal has done a fine job designing a mug for our 50th. The result: celebrates our Class of 1964; symbolizes our 50th Reunion with a bright gold star; elicits memories of Puerto Rico and Antilles High School and its symbol, La Garita, as illustrated as only John Dixon can; displays our continuing Pirate spirit with a bold new Reunion Pirate; and expresses the sentiment that we are all Pirates for Life, that very special and unique bond we all share. Hal and Dan have asked me to forward you the following from Hal.

HAL

Hi, Ahoy Mateys, Arghh, etc, Attached is the picture of our reunion mug. It appears that the cost of the mug will be $5.85, which includes the art set-up charge, the cup, and the shipping cost from wherever it is coming to my house in Blanco, TX. I will bring them to NOLA, and distribute them at Hermann House. You needn't send payment now; I will collect in New Orleans. However, I do need to have an order count by May 15, so please think about this and get your order to me as soon as possible. FYI, the minimum number of cups we must purchase is 72. If there are more than 72 ordered, we can get additional numbers in lots of 36 (ie, 108, 144, etc). If anyone not attending New Orleans wishes to have some these cups, we will be able to handle that, also, for some hopefully reasonable shipping charge. I would take care of that upon returning home from New Orleans.

I'm really enjoying reading everyone's stuff about teen clubs, etc. I mostly went to the Navy Teen Club, but also a few times to Ft. Buchanan.

ELIZABETH

Dear Hal,

Thanks to you and thanks to John Dixon too. I have been pretty much silent about this upcoming reunion, which I won't be attending, as you probably know.

However, as a member of the Class of '64, I'd like to suggest one change in the mug design. The star looks a great deal like the "star of Bethlehem" you see on many Christmas cards, etc. Since we were after all in the Caribbean, why not have a bright shining SUN in that spot?

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I'm following all the email correspondence with great interest. Cheers, Liz

GIN

Terrific - I'll take 2.

SUZI

LOVE the design and the thoughts behind it. Love it!!! I will buy 2. Thanks, Suzi

DAVID

Maybe some of you don't realize or respect that Puerto Rico has long been known as "The Shining Star of the Caribbean". It was a Shining Star long before we came ashore, and has remained so, long after we sailed away from its now distant shores. In our own way, we are "The Shining Stars of Antilles". I can't think of a greater tribute to Puerto Rico, Antilles and the Class of 1964 than a very special Star shining brightly above the southern horizon and the historic walls surrounding San Juan. Hal, with great love and respect for the celebration of our 50th, and for the people that have made this possible, past and present, I would like four of your fantastic Switzer Mugs. Thank you. We are truly Pirates for Life – David

KIP

Many thanks for your talents! I will take two.

DAN

Hey folks - just a short note on the "Switzer mug". There have been a couple of suggestions on changes, but what you see is what you get! Hal and John did a great job on the mug design - this is one small step for mugdum, a giant step for "pirate kind". OK, so corny it is. But bottom line, David also did an excellent job of explaining each part of the design, the significance to the class and the school. So basically, it is what it is - and not sure if it could have been done better.

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Planning the 50th DAN

Ahoy Mateys, Seems there are a lot of little people running around so I guess school has started. Whether they are in first grade or are beginning their final year, I hope they are enjoying the experience. But 'tis a sad thought, because I know but a few will enjoy their time during their last four years as much as we did at AHS. And amazingly, next year will be 50 YEARS since our graduation from that hallowed hall of hunkering down and studying (or for some of us unlucky slobs, somewhere else). We have emailed for a couple of years about the 50th, so I guess it's time to do something about it. I would ask that everyone copy the group on the following:

Are you interested in having a 50th reunion? Where would be your location of preference (geographic area or specific city, place, etc)? When would you prefer to have this happen (season or particular month)? Who would you like to be there (class of '64, others, etc)? What activities would you like to have occur? Would you be willing to participate and/or lead in the planning/execution?

Since a lot of planning is involved in this type activity, please respond by Sep 15. If you have no desire to be included in this communication, please advise and everyone can take you off the group list.

In case anyone missed the communications, Jupiter was super. Thanks again to Kim for arranging the hotel and activities, as well as she and Michael having everyone over for a great dinner and party. There were also a few brave souls that fought the alligators in the 'glades, and then did a Key West trek, significantly increasing the alcohol consumption of that area for a few days.

Looking forward to everyone's response.

Grog On! TOM

Interested? Hell yes! Location? We're open, we like interesting, … When? Summer, warm, bikini weather… Who? '64 plus any laggards who didn't quite make it and others who are personally vouched for by a Class of '64 member… Activities? Poetry reading, mime, scrabble, the usual things for a 50th reunion--oh and pole dancing…

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Lead? I know you were in the Army and are trying to see who fails to take two steps back--I like the current leadership!! I know we think a lot of ourselves, but if we're honest and really look at the class of folks who go to Key West, our increase in the alcohol consumption was like that last delicate snowflake settling down on the avalanche that just thundered by…but hey, we did do our best--and there are still records to be set!! And Jupiter was great (though I never did see Burt Reynolds). Huge thanks to Kim and Michael for welcoming a bunch of pirates into their house and allowing them to sneak by the neighborhood watch (poor Michael), to Danny and Katherine for hosting the suite at the hotel (poor Katherine), to David and Mar-retta for hunting down as many folks as they did for the last reunion (poor Mar-retta) and to John for providing a real piece of the past (I'd say poor Frani but by now that's understood)--(and poor Teresa who has to put up with Tom--I thought I should get that in). But, we'll always have Key West!

Aaarrrrr, Tom the (not-really-so-) Terrible

MARGUERITE

Count me in for anywhere, any time! (Can't speak for Lloyd, though I know he'd prefer not to go back to Florida.)

The best times in Florida (for me) were the times when we got to move around (or sit) and talk quietly with one another. So dinner at Kim's, the hospitality suite, being by the pool or the ocean in the Keys, touring the lighthouse museum, and the Everglades excursion (until the mosquito attack in the glade) were more fun than the restaurants, where it's difficult to hear or speak to more than a very few.

I'd vote for just our class - even with only 12 of us in attendance, there is more than one person with whom I wish I'd been able to converse longer. The weekend seemed so short - even with the extended days in the Keys, time flew by too fast.

Paul's photos are priceless, especially the ones of the classmates, the spouses, and the couples.

I had suggested San Francisco earlier, but surely the weather in San Antonio (also suggested) couldn't be any worse than that in Florida in the summer. Both are hot and humid, and in the midst of hurricane season!

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DAVID

Good Morning Captain Dan and Crew of the Antilles - Wanted to put in my two pieces of eight worth before the tide ebbs. That's my warning that "Talk Like a Pirate Day" is coming up on the 19th! Dan has started the conversation and I am happy to see at least the 11 responses that have come in so far. There are 31 Pirates on our address list. - Interested? Yes, to the extent others may also be. The devil will be in the details. I don't envy the eventual leader of our motley crew who has to ponder the inputs and come up with some compromise that in all likelihood will not please all. We did have 16 in St Pete Beach. - When? If my memory, or at least what is left of it, serves me, we graduated on about the 12th of June in 1964. If anyone can confirm that, please let me know. All I remember is that I was told that if I didn't attend, I would not graduate and that would have ruined my last two weeks of partying before I had to report to military school out west. Does the date of our graduation have any significance, other than the obvious, to anyone besides me? We celebrate birthdays on ones birthday, not weeks or months later. Should we consider celebrating our 50th on the 50th anniversary of our actual graduation? In 2014, June 12th is on a Thursday if that is a consideration. Of course, that would be followed by Friday the 13th ... Just a purist thought. It also occurs to me that in June, for those concerned about the summer temperatures and humidity in the southern states, it is a bit milder, even at the southernmost point, and there would likely be no threat of a storm. - Where? There seem to be more general locations mentioned than specific cities. Maybe that is okay at this point, but it is difficult to state a preference without opening it up a bit more. So far, the only choices offered are New Orleans, San Antonio, and San Francisco, or maybe Key West. Regions mentioned are the east coast, the west and mid-Atlantic. Sometimes I think that we concentrate too much on what to do and see in a given location and lose our focus on why we are there to begin with. Hopefully, the "anywhere but Florida" voices will suggest other sufficiently interesting locations, but I wouldn't rule out the sunshine state yet which seems to cater to our tropical heritage and needs. What was not to like about Jupiter? I do note that Kim is unable to reune in August due to her annual family gathering in Key West. Maybe we could all join her there and make it simple! - Who? Always a popular question and one that will require some compromise. My own preference would be for the Class of 64 only. Remember that Mr. Smith in his book, "Antilles", stated that our class was "considered the best or one of the best that ever graduated from Antilles High School." I think that distinction is deserving of a reunion of our own. I know some have friendships in other classes, but perhaps your friends are not the friends of others. We seem to have not enough time just talking to our own classmates, much less diluting the participation with those from other classes. For example, I would prefer to be seated among my classmates and not have to get to know someone who may well be a stranger, regardless of the common experience we share. Researching the names we have just of our own classmates was a challenge. Who has a roster of the other classes and who is going to track them down would be reasonable questions. It really destroys the simplicity of it all and complicates the planning and spirit of the moment. Managing such an expanded affair becomes all too intrusive, intensive and burdensome for anyone who might come forward to lead us. Or, worse yet, we

89 might end up in a conga line doing the bunny hop! - Activities? Individual effort seems to have worked best in the recent past. Attempts to organize group activities, other than the gala, at St Pete Beach were unsuccessful. I tend to agree most with John - no formal dinner, no DJ, no silly games and I am not too sure about Tom's pole dancing. I am also a believer in keeping it simple. Just choose an interesting location where good food and grog (not necessarily in that order) are nearby (without driving) and plentiful and let things happen naturally. - Leadership? We all agree that Dan has stepped up and done us all a great service in working with Kim to make Jupiter and Key West such a success and now starting the conversation for our 50th as promised. He is a natural leader and one we all would eagerly endorse to continue as such. And he has taken on the unenviable task of coming up with some consensus from our diverse, sometimes impassioned inputs. But he just retired and maybe would like have a chance to enjoy that blissful moment for a while. For whomever takes the baton for the next leg to the 50th, it will be a challenging endeavor. Several have indicated they are willing to help which is great. However, once the choice of a location is narrowed down, an overall local Wizard will need to come forward and put it all together. And that won't be easy. Sorry about all my personal thoughts and the lack of more specifics, but there is not much meat on the bone to chew on given the choices. Some issues, like the level of interest, participation, timing and activities lend themselves to compromise and can probably be resolved with a show of e-hands. The selection of a location and leadership will not come so easily, especially given the response to date, and we may need to bring out the cutlasses. We don't quite have a full crew on board. If and when we do, perhaps we can commit to more. I can envision maybe 20 who will probably participate, but the silent majority may not reveal themselves for a while longer. Dan suspensed inputs for the 15th. Let's just see what he has by then for those that are clearly interested, which is mostly those that also made it to Jupiter. Cheers – David

JOHN

Location -- anywhere except Las Vegas or Orlando. Probably best to find a nice place but not somewhere where everyone feels that they have to spend all their time "seeing the sights" -- so Paris, New York and San Fran are probably out. San Juan would be great but gets expensive with transport and hotels...

Class -- Class of '64 and others by individual invitation from Class of 64 members. If it gets too big (with other classes) then two things happen: 1) someone has to organize it and get agreement, and 2) it dilutes the affair. I have always been a firm believer that "Less is More" -- keep it simple, and keep if focused.

Activities -- maximize time for small group and one on one interaction (a la Kim and Michael's). No formal dinner, no DJ, no silly games... (although if Tom is going to do pole dancing I guess that is OK). San Antonio sounds pretty nice -- fun things to do but also not an imperative! (In Jupiter we did visit Jupiter Island -- nice-- and drive by Celine Dion's $72 million

90 dollar home. In Key West we never got much further than 4 blocks from the Guest House (Hemingway's House was 2 blocks away).

Hope to hear from those who missed the Jupiter Beach Pachanga.

Aloha

KIM

Well, time is marching on and I am grateful that you are getting the ball rolling again, Dan.

Of course, we are in for next year's bash and can't wait to see tom on a greased pole after 3 glasses of wine! I think I'd go half way around the planet for that spectacle...or maybe just keep the mental picture it conjures up.

The immediate choices that come to mind are San Antonio or North Carolina. I am in favor of summer time (except for the 2nd week of august which is our annual family trip to the Keys.) I am also in favor of the class of '65 being included. It seems there was a lot of overlapping in the bygone days.

As far as activities go, I am in favor of suggested sights to see -- or not -- and little formal structure and fanfare. I feel the desire to catch up with everyone and how we got where we are now.

I will offer whatever I can do to help with pulling it together for our 50th. I suppose I learned a bit in the process of getting us together this year, but I did have the advantage of using intuition about available spaces and visiting them. That's another kind of challenge when visiting websites, etc. No matter...I am here. I am also very grateful for Dan's skills in centralizing information and input ,and vote for his continued skills in that area!

So, with Dan's continued compilation of info, we should be moving forward quickly. Yay!

Kim

DAVID

Good Morning Pirates - With my morning coffee, I have just taken a cruise of my own down memory lane - on Dan's Pirates 64 website (pirates64.webs.com). Most of us are members who may have lost their passwords, along with their minds and virginity (hopefully not in that order), but all can visit the photos, forums and members pages without signing in. You just can't post anything, but I believe you can still join and do so? You might also look at the St Pete Beach Reunion at 61reunion.webs.com where there are still many photos posted, including

91 those of the 16 64'ers that attended. Just call up the Beach Party, Dinner Dance, etc. Under Mr. Ramsey you will find some interesting poems and yearbook entries he wrote, including one for our very own Ruth "Root Smoot" Davis. Elizabeth also has a photo posted on Pirates 64 of her letter from Mr. Ramsey. And the photos also show sandy beaches, palm trees, blue water and people dressed like they just came from the islands in the sun. Why is that? What does that have to do with anything?! It is worth your while and worth our while as a class to revisit the site and add more to it. What better way to prepare for the 50th. In years to come, as we travel less, this may be a collection of memories we all cherish ... and drink to. It is a way for us to stay in touch. Perhaps those that have not done so can update their photos and bios and add that graduation program and other treasures (sounds like something piratical) you may have. Give it a shot. Your classmates will appreciate it. It saddens me that many may have taken their last voyage to "La Isla del Encanto" where some of our best years were spent and all these memories came from. Few that I have encountered in my life had such an opportunity and experience. I still wish Mr. Ramsey were here to take us all to St Thomas, as it existed back in '64. Our class missed out on something very special. A one day, grogless cruise to Vieques on a landing craft was not quite the same. Are we too quick to forget as we head for the hills on our 50th? What possible relevance does that have as I read of arts and crafts, pottery (non Arawak or Caribe), furniture and antiques, and mountains, trails and bears but little or nothing of reuning. Give me El Yunque and chupacabras any day! Are John and Dan the only ones who are bold enough to suggest that we go home to where it all began? I don't accept the notion that "you really can't go home again." Why am I so partial to the island? First and foremost I am a member of the Antilles Class of 1964. Although I left immediately after graduation for military school and a career, my parents continued to live there until 1971 and I visited frequently. In my second career with the airlines, I paid my early dues and started flying to the Caribbean as soon as my seniority allowed. I "owned" the New York to San Juan route for many years and logged many nights at the Caribe Hilton and Embassy Suites. I moved back to Puerto Rico in 1999 and lived in the Condado and then on the west side of the Caribbean National Forest above Canovanas until my girlfriend died in 2003. I have returned twice since then with Mar-retta to visit my brother on his boat in Culebra and for a quiet stay at the Westin Rio Mar out east near Luquillo. Certainly San Juan, like most major cities, has changed for the worse over the years. But the good things, good times and the good people of Puerto Rico are still in abundance and the memories are overwhelming each time I touch down. I remember well upon landings (be they Navy ones or grease jobs)in San Juan, the loud applause from the cabin from my Puerto Rican passengers so happy "TO BE HOME AGAIN." That spirit is still alive and well ... as are John's cuba libres! Of all of our classmates, I believe John epitomizes and expresses best just how much living in Puerto Rico contributed to all our lives. Think about it! LET'S GO HOME!

KIM

You DO have such a way with words...used in a very enjoyable, seductive sort of way! You could have been an attorney except that it would have perhaps compromised your ideals.

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Anyway, I am feeling that your ideas are pretty spot on....first of all, I love the sort of sentimental idea of seeking to gather on our actual anniversary. I don't think I like acknowledgement of my own anniversary some time before or after, so it "feels" right to me to go for the actual date. I am also resonating with the idea about having other classes not join us as we still have so much catching up to do with our own class, hence the problem of even more catching up is an onerous task already if we include more people. Even if there are only 20 or so of us, there is plenty of ground to cover! I also concur with your final thoughts about how it comes together....it won't please everyone and someone will just have to step up and agree to take it on...for better or worse..otherwise the pondering never ends. If we agree to keep it simple, it shouldn't be too much to bring it together and also work together. I think the deadline of input will be good and we go from there. JOHN

Aloha fellow Pirates!

I have finally decided to wade into the discussion of where to have the 50th and I vote for Puerto Rico! This is where it all started and it is still a great place to visit. I was last there 5 plus years ago and had a great time -- and drove all over the island and visited all of my old haunts (including La Perla -- I used to hang out there while at AHS to both sketch and to collect driftwood on the beach that I painted Santos on -- but that is another story!).

Plus El Morro and San Cristobal (great playgrounds for a young explorer), plus digging in the midden heap on Isla de Cabras for pre-Colombian Arawak and Caribe pottery -- still have them in Bethesda (strictly illegal now, but back then who knew??).

Going to Trader Vics at the Hilton, swimming at Army-Navy Beach, pool parties wherever, plus the Teen Club at the Base Naval. Not to mention the food -- and Cuba Libres!

Oh well, at least we can talk about all this while sitting in the mountains of North Carolina (??!!)

DEE

Wow. You got my vote, David! My initial thought was to go back to PR. I have not been back since Christmas of 64, yet the place and the time we spent there is an almost idyllic memory for me, as I think it is for many of us. You know it would be easier to stay "Stateside"....probably cost less....and we could drive there....but, if I don’t go now for our 50th I might never get back! Missed the last reunion in PR and thought I'd just catch a later one...ha, who knows what the future holds but we aren't getting any younger....this may be our best opportunity to recapture some of that "tropical magic". I don't need to travel all over the island...will be content to hang out and reconnect. I'm sure things have changed a lot...so have we...but, you know when I saw

93 so many of you in St. Pete Beach and we just talked, remembered, and laughed...that old feeling was there...how cool would it be to experience it again on the island!

Oh, to address other issues, I vote for class of 64 plus siblings or other close friends by invitation and I will be happy to help the effort. And if the decision is not PR, I will still be there!

Love to all, Dee DODI

I said it before and I'll repeat. I prefer Puerto Rico where you can go home again. However, just to connect with everyone and once more enjoy your company I will go where the majority rules. Once a 64 Pirate always a Pirate where ever we are. We just need to know which way the wind is blowing and where we are setting our sails for - fairly soon. Dodi

KIM

Hi all, Well, I am finally at a place to weigh in about this discussion of going home to PR. First of all, I must comment on David's gentle, sentimental message. I am really enjoying seeing the softer side of these guys! And....I repeat that I believe that David would make a marvelous attorney with his convincing and impassioned oratory. It is truly the fruit of the word god. And speaking of that, I have to say that the way this discussion has morphed into "going home" sounds a little Biblical and not too inviting at this point. All of that being said, when the discussion first came up, I felt that I wouldn't want to return to PR for viewing the past and looking at crumbling buildings.....even the oldest buildings in Europe have dignity in being restored and protected-- so seeing that lack of restoration would be sad. I would enjoy going there looking for a new way to be us and enjoy our present time, maybe in another relaxing, easy flowing location. I have wanted to take Michael there for the sheer beauty and culture and also to revamp my own enjoyment, but not to recreate what was. I will go with whatever the group goes with and be happy with that decision if it is "home" . I am still in the mode of enjoyment and sharing rather than structure and recreating something outside that is really a place in our hearts.

For now, those are my thoughts. Kim MARGUERITE

Didn't anyone read the previous e-mails saying our high school, and other places we might remember, aren't there anymore? I didn't leave Ft. Buchanan very often in 1962-64, so staying in San Juan city is NOT "going home" for me. PR was just a place where my dad was stationed for three years.

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I DID go back for the 50th anniversary of the high school in 2003, and was lucky enough to visit it while it was pretty much physically unchanged. Now it has been assigned another use. I was disappointed that I was NOT able to identify the house where we lived (after our first one in the same housing area was condemned).

You CANNOT go home again!!!

It is WE, the class members, who are important. WE need to find an easily-accessible, comfortable location for as many of us as possible to encounter one other again. We do NOT try to revisit physical locations from 50 years ago that don't currently exist!

KIP

I vote with Marguerite. When I saw how badly run-down FJ was, I just got depressed. Our memories today are so very tied up in how things were. To me, seeing our former homes & schools falling apart or, even worse, gone would be like having ice water thrown on us. And it's not just seeing their degraded physical plant either it's also the loss of their military surroundings. After all, that's who we were & remain, military brats. That's our identity. JOHN

The back and forth prompted by David's email has been very interesting. Several thoughts come to mind.

First, I realize that to many of us AHS and school were also part of living in Puerto Rico -- for those who did not live on a base or spent a lot of time in San Juan and the island, Puerto Rico was an integral part the whole experience -- it certainly was for me. Hence my feelings for both AHS and classmates but also San Juan and PR in general.

Second, while one can never "go home again" -- one can still revisit and benefit. An example -- Frani and I met in Malaysia in 1970 and were married there in late 1972. It was an amazing place to live (me for 5 years, Frani for 3). Last year we went back for 3 weeks (a 40th wedding celebration) and had an absolutely marvelous time. So much had changed (progressed) that the simple life we lived in the village in 1970 was gone, but it was great to see what had happened to people and places. I said at the time it was like going to a country that we knew in a different universe but that was still familiar. So rather than saying what had not changed in 42 years (very little) we enjoyed what was there and our memories. It was a memorable trip and we greatly enjoyed it once we realized that it would not be like 1970.

If we go back to Puerto Rico it would be in the same light -- the physical buildings we went to school in or lived in might be gone but much of the culture and ambience remain. It could still be a great trip.

Just some thoughts

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BOB

It's about time the class valedictorian weighed in (cue jokes about my weight gain since '64)! I've been enjoying the online discussions about our 50th-year reunion and only wish Nora were still with us to add her insightful comments.

Ginny and I enjoyed a lovely week in PR last February and have no desire to go back soon. We made many happy new memories while touring the Rio Camuy Caverns, the Arecibo Radio Telescope, the open-air tropical zoo in Mayaguez, the firehouse museum in Ponce, and much of Old San Juan (including lunch with Dennis at The Parrot Club, where the Class of '64 dined in 2003). However, there was nothing to see of our old haunts -- Marguerite is absolutely right about "going home again"! Seeing you all again is much more important, no matter where we meet.

If we don't meet in a location that jogs our memories, I suggest we each bring whatever PR / AHS memorabilia we still possess to share with everyone who can make it to our 50th. My own contributions include the '63 and '64 Yearbooks, old issues of the Pirate's Pages and The Patch student literary magazine, and (drumroll). . . a thick scrapbook that I put together just after graduation, full of memorabilia from our senior year! Amazingly, my dear mother had saved it for me all these years in my old room in the house where my parents lived from 1964 until 2010.

If any of you are interested in a sneak peek at the contents, I can inventory them and email scans of any items that might be of general interest. How's that for an appetizer for the main course next year?

Forever a Pirate, Bob AHS '64 (Sorry, I never got into grogging)

TOM

Well, I've only been back twice since departing in '64, but my vote is for San Juan (or at least Puerto Rico)--the Caribe Hilton would work (especially if Trader Vic's is still there) or La Concha (two blocks from where we lived and a continual site for exploration ;-))! And I'd vote for David as guide! Ironically Robert Henderson's note against actually made me want to go back even more as he cited a whole bunch of things I've forgotten about. I know you can never go home again (and who would want to?), but to a large degree the whole atmosphere of the island creates a state of mind that I feel has been a part of me (at least) from those days--living in the northeast for those long four years never thickened my blood and I definitely favor the tropics (though these days, living on the west coast, I'm more inclined toward Hawaii for my needed island fix). For me, the school, the teen activities--real and imagined--and all the rest are a big

96 part of my memories, but I lived in the Condado area (my building is still there according to Google earth), so the fixtures on the bases are not the biggest part of my recollection…the beaches, the local kids, hopping on a bus (or a publico) to go wherever, the Cataño Ferry, the architecture, the forts, the university nearby, heck, just living in an exotic land--it's a milieu that isn't possible in any of the other spots that have come up. And re-discovering the island with a bunch of kindred spirits sounds much more attractive than someday (when) going there on my own. Having said that, I probably don't have any "no fly zones", but I could offer up Monterey, Carmel or Napa (or better, Sonoma) as other alternatives should we decide not to go to Puerto Rico…for those flying, once you have to get on a plane, everywhere is about as far away as everywhere else and about as costly…

Cheers, Tom

I had also suggested Colorado Springs, though none of us lives there, since some had wanted to try to see Sandy Morales....Though it's been a while, and we're not sure she's even still there.

Grog on! HAL

Dan, it goes without saying that Sandy & I are interested, and we will do anything we can to assisting preparations. We think San Antonio is the best place because you are there, and have many good contacts in the area to set up such an event. We like the current leadership, and hope you don't plan to change horses anytime soon! Also, it is relatively easy to get to from anywhere in the States. And & I will be close by, and several of our activities will be near San Antonio anyway. Socializing and visiting will/ should the main activity, although I have no objection to pole dancing as long as Tom leads off the performance. I myself have been known to jump out of a cardboard cake with a grass skirt and coconuts singing " Hundred and pounds of fun, my little honey bun" but that' quite another story and I' m relatively certain no one would like to see a repeat performance!

You and Dave have done marvelous jobs of these things, and I can see clearly that Kim and her husband had a smashing performance...only very sorry that we had to miss it. Our hearty thanks to all of you. At our ages, and given the fact that we all look pretty good, we sure shouldn't pass up this opportunity. Summer is best, but anytime will be good. Class of '64 is best, but it would be alright to invite 63 and 65 also...and probably make for a few more attendees also. Plenty of fun things to do in San Antonio if we need a group activity. DAN

Ahoy Mateys

Well as they say in politics, the votes are in and it looks like we may need a runoff.

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As for when - summer wins, hands down

As for what - less is better - no DJ, no Dance, etc. - pretty much unanimous

As for who - class of '64 and selected invitees

Now for the fun part. Where????

Trying to decipher everyone's wishes, and particularly with several changes as the discussions progressed, this is what I have recapped:

For Ashville - Jane, Sara, Priscilla, MaryAnn O, Steve, Mimi, Kip, Mary - 8 total

For Puerto Rico - Tom, John, David, Dodi, Dee, Charla, Kim, Dan - 8 total

On the fence - Cathy, Ruth, Hal, MaryAnn H, Dennis N, Mary Ann B, Dennis D. (not PR), Bob (not PR) - 8 total

No Response (unless I missed it somewhere) - Elizabeth, Paul, Doug, D Corbin, Helen, Pete D, Jane P, D Van Beber - 8 total How weird, 8 in each category.

If I have listed you in the wrong category, please correct me.

I tried to remember something from a statistics class and prepare a mini probability study. And realizing that I am a military brat and lousy at math, there are probably fallacies in my reasoning and/or computations. But so be it. I certainly don't mean to upset anyone with this, but since this is our 50th Reunion and can be a fairly significant event, and can cost a few bucks, I thought it only made sense. I will admit that I personally have no interest in going to Ashville, but if the Reunion ended up there and I did go, and half the people that voted for it did not show up, then I would be pissed! And I probably wouldn't be the only one. So - I assigned the following points to people that responded with a preference between Ashville and Puerto Rico, based on the probability of people actually attending. I started with St Pete and added this year at Jupiter. If you attended both, I gave 2 points, because the probability of you attending next year was high. If you attended one of those events, I gave you 1 point, because the probability of you attending was average. If you attended neither, I assigned you no points, because the probability of you attending next year is not great. Another small lesson I learned from Stat is that in every situation where there are two outcomes possible, there is a 50/50 chance of either one happening. But then we go back to the probability study.

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So the end result of this if it makes any sense at all, is that most of the people that preferred Puerto Rico would probably go to Puerto Rico, or wherever it was held, and that most of the people that preferred Ashville, would probably not go to Ashville, or anywhere else. And with this synopsis we may lose a bunch of people from the discussion - OR we may pick up more discussion and/or more discussers (is that a word?). But again, so be it.

I have not added any personal comments since this whole thread was started, mainly because I could add nothing that was not already input from David, John, and Tom, and a few comments from others, and I certainly could not have added anything more well said. We all have our own memories of those years, the location, the people of the island, and the people of the high school. None are going to be the exact same thing, but is amazing how so many people have such similar thoughts. I am sorry that there are some that consider their stay there as just another place where the old man was stationed. Frankly, you blew an excellent opportunity to experience, what was for most people, a once in a lifetime opportunity to get to know a different place/culture/people. But, everybody to their own kicks.

I have been back to PR 5 times in the last 16 years. The last time I went, which was a month before the St Pete reunion, Katherine and I took the whole family. Her son and daughter (both grown), my two daughters, their husbands, and three grandkids. I wanted them to see what had been such an impactful place for me in my life. We stayed for a week in Luquillo, took trips to OSJ, Ft Buchannan, Fajardo, and many beaches. We had dinner in OSJ and in downtown Luquillo and at the kiosks, and I never felt unsafe. If I had any reservations about safety, I would certainly never have subjected my family to that. Was there traffic in San Juan? Yep. Is there traffic in Dallas, San Francisco, Atlanta, New York or Miami or any other city in the US? Yep. Are there drugs in San Juan? Yep. Are there drugs in Dallas, San Francisco, etc? Yep. Are there beautiful beaches in Puerto Rico? Yep. Are there beautiful beaches in any other big city in the US? Yep, a few, but most not where you can see your feet.

So what I would request - those of you that have responded with a preference, please confirm. Those of you that are "on the fence", please respond with a preference. Those of you that have not responded, please do your classmates the courtesy of either responding with some input, or just tell us that you are not interested and we will take you off the list and not clog your email account.

Time for a bit of the grog. Later...

MARGUERITE

AHA! I knew that the scoring system was designed to bolster one position over the other! However, one thing it did not consider is how to include the votes of those who said they could not, or did not want to, go to one place instead of another.....

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The majority's expressed objective for our reunion next year is to get together somewhere comfortable in the summer to relax, talk, eat, and drink. That implies a quieter place, than, for instance, the Condado Plaza casino hotel, where we stayed in (2003), or the Parrot Club (for dinner) in old San Juan, even though the food there was very good. I'd also hesitate to dine at any O-Club, because my experience has been that they did not serve even two-star food. If I'm going to eat at a restaurant, I want the food to be delicious - worth the price and the calories.

At one point, I thought of suggesting that we get really wild and make our reunion that trip to St. Thomas which we wanted so much in '64, but I rejected that idea in consideration of Cathy's recent move from there. On the other hand, maybe it could be added to the list of places to be considered for next year. After all, this is likely, we hope, NOT our last year of wanting/being able to reune. One of my friends is meeting today with her remaining classmates from 64 years ago!

Part of my objection to San Juan itself is that it IS crowded, busy, and loud, with a big-city type atmosphere and problems. My worst driving experiences were not in the city per se, but in its suburbs and of all northern Puerto Rico. I found it to be even worse than Naples, Italy: chaos.

Dan, I know you quit as chief mathematician, but if we DID want to continue the scoring system, how about giving TWO points for those of us who went back to Puerto Rico in 2003 for the 50th anniversary of the school, such as Bob H., Mary W., Dick VB, Hal, and me?

I also agree with Bob (as you remember one of our math and science exceptions), that NOT attending a reunion in the recent past (2011 or 2012) is NOT necessarily a good way to predict whether someone will come to the 50th. He explained again that and some us (like him) decided to wait until the big event, and some of us (like me) chose to attend two years in a row. Also, St. Pete wasn't even our reunion - we piggy-backed on the arrangements of another class that was generous enough to include us.

Many folks didn't attend later get-togethers for various reasons - including health, family, conflicting events, finances, work.... and those factors might come into play for ANY of us in the upcoming months, regardless of how we vote on where to get together. Each of us might commit 100% to attending, but later have some last-minute circumstance prevent us from actually doing so.

I also think that EVERYONE who was at Antilles in 1962-64, and graduated (anywhere) in 1964, should vote for the location that they would prefer IF everything works out perfectly, and they really can come when the reunion actually occurs. Even they were there for only a few months, or aren't sure NOW that they'll actually be able to attend next year, they were part of our class. Only someone who has NO intention of coming should abstain from voting, and indicate that they are not interested.

Another good point that Bob made is that we should most seriously consider which of the proposed locations maximizes the number of us willing and easily able to get there. Cathy

100 pointed out that the costs of staying somewhere and enjoying the facilities is also a factor, not just the cost of the flight.

I was somewhat put off by Dan's remark that some of us "blew an excellent opportunity to experience, what was for most people, a once in a lifetime opportunity to get to know a different place/culture/people." Those of whose parent(s) were stationed there for only a few months and/or lived at Ft. Buchanan for a year or two may NOT have had any REAL opportunity to get to know to the island and its people. My parents did not let me venture off base, at ages 15 to 17, except on one or two occasions with Mary W, or to volunteer as a candy-striper at the Brooke Army Medical Center, or for school-sponsored trips.

On the other hand, my two in PR years were the first time I'd ever lived on a base, gone to a public school, or studied Spanish. In that regard, I did try to learn how to appreciate completely foreign lifestyle(s)!

Cathy asked a very valid question about "feet on the ground in either place", to physically visit and make arrangements, that no one really addressed. I think the answer is "No" for both, because Steve and Katherine Lyons are currently in Hawaii, although several people have recent experience in visiting PR, and Dennis offered a PR.travel agency to make up a package for us. Thank you, Cathy, for offering to make the long drive to Asheville to preview various locations, and to work with others to make the best choices!

DAN

I think I sent something out that where I pretty well admitted that my "probability study" was done to further my own agenda. And that's the last I will say on the entire issue.

Hola Amigos. I would like to apologize to all for my part in turning this into what looks like a giant bitch-a-thon instead of a reunion planning process. It has certainly done nothing to promote the excitement and anticipation that one would think should be part of a happy occasion. And it certainly does nothing to help those that may decide to actually be part of the planning process. So as not to add more fuel to the fire, I'm outta here. Gone. Adios

AND THE CONVERSATION ABOUT A 50TH CAME TO AN ABRUPT STOP

A WHILE LATER…

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DAN (to John, Tom, David, Ruth, Hal, Dennis)

Check out Dauphine Orleans Hotel DAN

SOME PIRATES LOOK AT FIFTY Ahoy Mateys:

(In addition to "Conky Tonkin", borrowing another phrase from Jimmy Buffet, the only real modern day "Pirate" - except for all of us, of course).

Plans are being made for the 50th Reunion for the AHS Greatest Class ever, that of 1964!

Location? New Orleans, Louisiana.

Dates - July 20 & 21 What better place for a bunch of pirates to gather and talk about the plunders and blunders in Old San Juan, 50 years ago plus? New Orleans was the meeting place for many pirates back in the day (and I'm sure there are still some around), and it will be a great place for the AHS Pirates. (We may have to designate an extra week for "Talk like a Pirate” - Tom and David will have to bring out the Pirate Thesaurus again to give us a refresher)

Plus, New Orleans is as centrally located as possible (and still have an ocean) - and with the exception of John and Dennis Negron (if he is still in PR at that time), no one will have to fly to get there.

Plus, there are a myriad of things to do in NOLA, both historical and fun.

Plus, we have a resident Pirate in the area. Ruth has a lot of great ideas on things to do, especially for those that want to stay on for a few extra days. Stay tuned for more on this - as soon as Ruth gets all our Christmas presents bought and mailed, she will put some thoughts down and send out.

We are currently looking at several hotels in the French Quarter, and will make a decision soon. So, mark your calendars and start making your plans!

(You don't have to sign in blood YET - but please respond with your thoughts on attending - the number of rooms we book has a bearing on the rates we can negotiate).

Looking forward to seeing everyone there!

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LAISSEZ LES BONS TEMPS ROULER!!!

MARY ANN

New Orleans sounds great! Much more "piratey" than Ashville ;-)) Believe it or not, as close as I live, I have never been there! Might even convince my husband to come along. I will definitely mark my calendar. If hubby won't come I will be looking for some ladies to share a room/condo. Whatever we end up with. My e mail has been down for over a week so I was beginning to have Pirate withdrawal after our great discussions in Nov. Thanks for making a good decision for us. Sometimes coming to consensus can be very frustrating, as we found out! MA DODI

Sounds great!! The date is on my calendar. Looking forward to it. Dodi

DAN

Day one, 10 positive responses. Great!

The question was asked, is two days enough? In requesting room rates we have added that several people may want to stay more than Friday and Saturday. If that includes you and yours, please indicate how many nights you would like to stay. It just gives us that more leverage in negotiating rates. Thanks...

DAN

Ahoy Mateys - I'm forwarding Ruth's message because I noticed she did not have a few updates on members we have added to the group - and it's easier to forward than to sort through the omissions. So if you get it twice you don't have to book two rooms.

Thanks to Ruth for scouring the town and finding the Hermann House. The location is great, she visited and said the place is great, and the price is super. Now all we need is for at least 16 people to book ASAP so we can be sure not to have any party crashers unworthy of Pirate Status. Obviously once the Hermann House is full then the next option with be the Dauphine main hotel across the street.

Looking forward to seeing everyone!

LAISSEX LES BON TEMPS ROULER!!!

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As of this writing, May 23, 23 Pirates have reserved rooms at the Dauphine Hotel in New Orleans

And the BON TEMPS will ROULER

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Pirates Forever

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Alma Mater

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Class Photo

Back Row: David Corbin, Jeff Snyder, Dick Van Beber, David Murphy, Dennis Costa, Bill Kalvaitis, John Keilman,Bruce Barker, Doug Bills, Paul Daniel, Dennis Negron, Kenny Rule, Butch James, Tom Garvey, Bob Henderson,Wally Miller, Randy Surum, and Lavonne Hawkins

Middle Row: Priscilla Miller, Dodi Di Pasca, Kim Stark, Vivian Figueroa, Maria Barada, Dee Herman, Sandy Rambo, Sara Walters, Broncille Axon, Elizabeth Moore, Marguerite Fontaine, Rosalind Murphy, Nancy Vaiksnoras, Janet Hundeby, Mary West, Nora Carrigan, Charla Hayen, and Sandi Sandin

Front Row: Luis Mercado, David Bogart, Steve Lyons, Tom Cronin, Jack Crutchfield, Mary Ann Giunta, Mary Ann Mateik, Jane Pieper, Maria Rienes, Pablo Cartagena, Hal Switzer, Kenny Daines, Victor Paz, and Dave Lewis

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Class Ring and Class Reunion “Switzer” Mug

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Graduation Program and Announcement

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Explanation of Charla’s Name Portrait

ANTILLES HIGH SCHOOL

This picture was created by a special group of Antilles Classmates who volunteered information and reminders of that special time in Puerto Rico. This is definitely a product created by all. Countless classmates provided answers to my endless questions. Giant thank yous to Dodi DiPasca Thomas, Cathy Silvis, Bob Henderson and John Dixon for treasured memorabilia. John's incredible artwork from that time is also featured within the picture.

And with special gratitude to DAVID BOGART who provided so many of the pictures and so much essential information. David was an endless, gracious resource for this picture and it definitely would not have been the same without his partnership.

Description: The letter A features Puerto Rico's flower, the hibiscus with our class flower the yellow rose. The beach is Luquillo Beach. The ring is our class ring designed by Mr. Ramsey. N is dedicated to our teen clubs with some of the song titles and the 25 cents cost of admission. Song titles also weave throughout the word. T features a seagull and Emerald Anole Lizard. Also illustrated are bananas which are an island product. The University of Puerto Rico logo is also featured. I has a Pirate patch, the PR Stripe Headed Tanager and the pava symbol of the island's Partido Democratico Popular. The Navy steel band of Pandemonia is an important element of our Antilles time. L features the US flag plus our pirate flag, a Don Q drink along with the logo and a flamingo from the Caribe Hilton. The second L shows the flag of Puerto Rico and a stalk of sugar cane. E has Priscilla's parakeet sitting on top, a photo of the Sophomore Class trip to Vieques Island, a map of the island, the pan de agua bread, and another product of PR, the pineapple. A PR flower, the poinsettia is also shown. One of the three kings is illustrated symbolizing 3 Kings Day and the kings along the ocean cliff on the way to OSJ. S features the two ways we arrived on the island... either by military plane or ship. Also seen are John's pen and ink rendition of an El Morro sentry box, una Garita. The Puerto Rican Parrot of El Yunque oversees the ribbon from our diploma. Also shown is President Kennedy with the flag that fell from our assembly stage on that terrible day.

H represents the organizations of the National Honor Society, Student Council and Future Nurses. I illustrates one of the murals created by art students (Mimi?) that hung in the cafeteria and the school newspaper, Pirates Pages. G Mary Jane candy was for sale in the wondrous candy cart. Also featured are the Library Club, the Chorus and the Band. Our Principal and Assistant Principal are listed. H shows Intramural Day where teams competed and in 1964 the Roaches won. Also included are Aquacades, a swimming team, La Viñeta and the Patch, literary publications. Between words are John's penguin advertising the sophomore dance, the mysterious black box, the Cutlass Yearbook and the location of the prom at the Condado Beach Hotel. S shows the sailboat the Cutlass staff rode on to their special island. Also featured are

112 symbols representing the sports teams which were so exceptional in spirit and ability. The unique metal gym with no walls is also pictured. C symbolizes Carnaval in Old San Juan and listed are the fun and rewarding class play productions. H has a marble representing our classmates who played with marbles and tops in the years before high school. Also featured are the buildings that housed our high school in two different locations. Festival Casals provided wonderful music with Pablo Casals as the founder and mentor. O features a Jolly Rogers Lovely representing the cheerleaders and marching team. The flag she is holding symbolizes the fight against Ramey. O shows a Coqui frog sitting atop the letter with another of John's illustrations of a church in OSJ within the O. L has a section of the music for the class song written by Mr. Ramsey. Also shown are the Switzer mug and logo for our 50th Reunion.

Below our school name are the TEACHERS, those wonderful teachers with Mr. Ramsey our leader pictured three times. And lastly, some of the words to our school song...so true so true.

More thanks to all...Charla Hayen, Class of 1964, Reunion 2014

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ATTENDANCE AT ANTILLES ACCORDING TO YEARBOOKS

Class of 1964

Note: These are names that are pictured in each yearbook. You may have been absent or came after picture was taken. Also, the last columns list those names on the graduation program.

Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

Abraham Robert X

Abrahamson Joe X

Alers Maria X

Arant Tim X

Aymat Efrain X

Axon Broncille X X X X

Barada Maria X

Barker Bruce X X

Barnes Leslie X

Batterton Barbara X

Beach John X

Becker John X X X

Beesley Karen X

Berberick Mary Ann X

Bessette Nancy X

Bills Douglas X X X X X

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Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

Black Miriam X X X

Blackford John X

Blankenship Patsy X

Bogart David X X X X X X

Bonilla Ada X

Brenner David X

Brown Pam X

Burgos Ingrid X

Bykerk Lynne X X X

Byrd Danny X X

Canales Angel X

Caraballo Eddie X

Caraballo Yvonne X X

Carrigan Nora X X X X

Cartagena Pablo X X

Castro Madeline X

Castro Wilfredo X X

Chapman Lynn X

Christian James X X X

Clark Kenneth X

Colon Jose X

Copeland Danny X X X X

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Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

Copeland Mary Ann X X X X

Cora Jesus X X

Corbin David X X

Costa Dennis X X X X X

Covan Fe X

Cronin Thomas X X

Crutchfield Jack X X

Cushing- Geoffrey X Murray

Daines Kenneth X X X

Daniel Paul X X X

Davis Ruth X X X

Delgado Richard X

DiPasca Dorreen X X X X X X

DiPasca Yvonne X X X X

DiSalvo Dennis X X X

Dixon Gary X

Dixon John X X X

Dodge Barbara X

Doll Barbara X X

Duffy Linda X

Earle Elizabeth X X X

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Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

Echevarria Carlos X

Elkin Judy X X

Figueroa Vivian X X X X X

Fitzwilliams Charles X

Ferrell Tom X

Fonseca Orlando X

Fontaine Marguerite X X X

Foote Henrietta X X

Franklin Douglas X

Garvey Tom X X X X X X

George Paul X

Ghesquiere Mary X

Gilhooly Patrick X X

Gilmer Billy X X

Giordano Tony X X

Giunta Maryann X X

Goldsberry Diana X X X

Gould Jan X X

Gray Sonny X

Gurgon John X

Guzman Nancy X

Hahn Eddie X X X

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Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

Hallman Ann X

Harrell Nancy X

Harvey Paul X

Hawkins Lavonne X X X X

Hayden Charla X X X X X

Hayes Joey X X

Hefley Nancy X X X

Henderson Robert X X X X

Herman Diana X X X X

Hernandez Luis X X

Hernandez Pedro X X

Hildebrand Elaine X X

Hudson Keith X

Hundeby Janet X X X X X

Hollis Carol X

James Ralph X X X X X X

Jimenez Luis X

Kalvaitis Bill X X

Keilman John X X

Kuck Helen X X X

Kunze Anita X

Lang Diane X X X

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Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

Lawhead Rebecca X X

Lawhead Richard X

LeBlanc Cherie X

Lee Benny X X

LeFleur Wayne X

Lemmon Connie X

Lewis David X X X

Lindsey Virginia X X X llera Juan X

Loveless David X

Loveless Judy X

Lovett Ron X

Luna Marcelo X

Lyons Stephen X X

Macomber Bruce X

Manulik Connie X X

Mason Gary X

Mateik Mary Ann X X X

May Henry X

McCoy Pam X

McDowell Kip X X X X X X

McKague John X X

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Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

McNeil Burt X X X

Medlin Nona X

Mercado Luis X X

Meyers Diane X

Miller Priscilla X X X X X X

Miller Wally X X X X X

Mongogna Jeanne X X X

Moore Elizabeth X X X X X X

Morrissette Mike X X

Munera John X

Murphy David X X X

Murphy Rosalind X X X

Mushenski Jim X

Negron Dennis X X X X X

Nobles Ann X

Nohrden Frances X X

Oakley George X

Owen Larry X X

Parris Palmer X

Payne Harlan X X X

Paz Victor X X

Pena Arturo X

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Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

Pieper Jane X X

Powell Robert X X

Quattlebaum Sherry X

Quinones Ilia X X X

Rainey Mike X X X

Rambo Sandy X X X X

Redmayne Judy X

Reed John X X X

Reines Maria X

Reyes Avelino X

Richardson Sandra X

Rios Frankie X X

Rivera Carmen X

Rivera Jose X X X X

Rodriguez Angelica X

Rodriguez Carmen X

Rodriguez Luis X

Rodriguez Ruth X X

Rosario Ramon X

Rule Kenneth X X

Rush Lana X

Sabatelle Linda X X

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Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

Sanchez Myrna X

Sandin Frances X X X

Santiago Irma X

Santiago Juan X

Sheffield Paul X X

Sivils Cathy X X X

Smelts Sharon X X

Snyder Jeff X X

Stark Kim X X X X X

Surum Henry X X

Sutehall Art X

Switzer Harold X X X X

Touart Karen X X

Townsend Jim X

Tukey Brad X X

Turnipseed Sandra X

Vaiksnoras Nancy X X X

Van Beber Dick X X X X

Vazquez Graciela X

Vega Luis X

Wagner John X

Walters Sara Ann X X

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Last First Deceased 1960 1961 1962 1963 1964 Name on Name Name (always in our th th th th th 8 9 10 11 12 program hearts) grade grade grade grade grade

West Jean Ann X

West Mary X X X

Wharton Johnny X X

Willey Suzanne X X X

Williams Robert X X

Williams Trevor X X

Wilson Shirley X X

Wright John X X X

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Epilogue Algunas Palabras Ultimas

To all the wonderful students who attended the schools of Antilles The class of 1964 is still considered the best … that ever graduated from Antilles High School

Quotes from Mr. Smith’s book Antilles, published in 1995

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